A Study in Vine
by Raquel Beth
Summary: Clever, cunning, ambitious - all the qualities of a perfect detective. A classic partnership in a modern magical world. Rating may change. Post Hogwarts. Not Epilogue compliant.
1. Prologue

**New fic. This is completely unrelated to Tread Softly but I thought a brand-new direction will keep my mind fresh. I'm probably going to regret this whilst still working on the other but it's an idea that just wont leave. This is basically Harry Potter world in the story form of the Sherlock series (television, not film) because it's a partnership I can envision so clearly and I think I can make it work. This is effectively a Sherlock and Harry Potter crossover but as I've replaced all the characters in Sherlock's series with Harry Potter ones. I may still put it in the crossover section though. **

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own anything as you all well know. These belong to J.K Rowling, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Stephan Moffet for his amazing interpretation. I'm just playing with their toys basically.

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><p>The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was a quiet place to be at that time of night. The stillness and lack of activity within the offices, without the furious scratching of quills, the constant use of Floo Network Calls and general inane chatter amongst workmates, was almost slightly haunting. Unnatural even. Not many people within the Ministry stuck around long enough after work to make observations. The vast majority were so desperate to run for the doors to get a head start on their free time, they barely managed a backward glance. They were all much too excited about the new Quiddich radio discussion show that they had been looking forward to listening to, or for a sneaky Firewhiskey with the mates before getting home to the 'missus' or sometimes just to see their children and get a start on the tea. It varied quite greatly.<p>

She hated this quiet time. Although she had her own office and not a large shared communal one with the rest of the wizarding admin staff, she liked to open the door a crack and absorb the noise of the workplace. It made her mind sharper and her senses more heightened. It wasn't an usual activity to spend someone's free time doing. But Hermione Granger wasn't an usual woman with an usual life.

Hermione found that the quiet time that engulfed the night hours haunting. The quiet time rung in her ears and her thoughts were louder in her head. The book that she had been pouring over that night, _The Tales of Beedle the Bard, _was lying open on her desk before her with her translations roughly scribbled in the book before her. Ancient Runes was a tricky mistress of subject during Hogwarts and, even with an Outstanding in her OWLS and subsequent NEWTs, it took a lot of concentration and energy to complete her translation. Minerva McGonagall was trusting Hermione with this task and she was loathe to let down her former Head Mistress and Head of House.

Her Inbox paper tray would be full again in the morning with reports that needed attention. As the founder of S.P.E.W and known to be the most intelligent woman on that floor and indeed the Ministry, she was never far from a pile of work that needed either her signature or approval or rewriting. The floor manager simply adored her. She was never behind on a deadline. Hermione was respected and a reasonably powerful name to have on a person's side at the Ministry. The brains and the beauty behind the Golden Trio, she was a woman of great debate amongst the wizarding world.

Hermione looked to the Floo Fireplace. It was connected to the tiny flat she was renting in Camden. She was literally a few feet from home should she choose to depart her office. She turned her head back to her book. No. Not yet.

Hermione went over the Runes again before closing the book and sighing. She was too tired. It would be futile working into the night, as the work would be sub-standard and possibly wouldn't make sense.

She felt drained and not just by work. It had been a pretty horrendous few months. Ron and herself were over. She was single lady once more and it was far from glamorous or thrilling. This new found freedom had more negative side effects to her life than she would have cared for. She'd lost her home, for one. They'd never got the joint mortgage, thank god, and just rented so the financial loss was hardly an issue. But the lovely homely details she had spent three years perfecting were now gone. She saw the irony, of course, that she had to move out of the home that had been only hers before Ron moved in but, as she had been the one to end the relationship, she'd felt duty bound to be the one to leave. The papers had proved as horrific as ever about the whole debacle. Rita Skeeter, who had been the bane of her life for many years anyway, had been practically rubbing her manicured hands with glee that such a story had emerged. 'The Golden Couple' were no more - it was Halloween come early. The papers had reported 'infidelity on both sides' which was generous of Skeeter as normally Hermione alone was the portrayed problem of her relationships (all two of them). Both Ron and Hermione had denied such vicious lies. There'd been national shock and sadness at the story, according to critics, and many people wanted to know how such a perfect couple could fall so irrevocably apart. She'd been offered a ridiculous amount of Galleons for the story. She would not sell her dignity for any amount of money.

Work had been good to her. There was always something to do. The people in the office had provided a lot of sympathetic smiles and she'd heard 'if there's anything you need…' more times than she cared to remember. She was a popular boss to have, even she knew this, and people liked to stay on the right side of the boss. Normally so they wouldn't get too harsh a warning for a missed deadline. There were a few of them that week. People tended to push their luck when they sensed weakness.

Standing and stretching her tired and stiff body, she arched her back to get rid of the knots of tension. Her left arm twitched. It did that a lot. The name was gone, thanks to the care of Fleur Weasley at Shell Cottage all those years ago, but sometimes she could still feel it. Like it was carved in the bone.

Waving her wand, the lights went out in the office and she picked up her book and beaded bag (it was always a practical thing to have something that could hide more in it than it originally let on). With a heavy heart, she threw the powder into the grate and stepped into the emerald flames. She was home in a heartbeat. It was a hollow feeling.

The tiny flat she was 'living in' was piled high with brown boxes containing all but her vital possessions. She had not taken it upon herself to unpack for she was determined that she would not remain here for very long. The idea of staying in this place would make any sane person snap whatever mental elastic they still possessed. It was cheap but too small, too damp, too dark. Very little natural light was able to come through the windows. Hermione had become tearful the first night she had been alone here. Of course, she had since shut that side of her down a bit more. She wasn't staying. She _wouldn't_ stay.

Her Vine wand was clutched in her hand. It was like meeting an old friend the day she had received it by Owl one day at the Burrow. The package wasn't signed but the wand was hers. The one that had been taken from her at Malfoy Manor was returned to its mistress. Her magic was able to return to its previous impeccable quality. It was one of the first times she'd admitted herself to have been completely wrong about something (albeit only to herself) when it came to wands. The wand really did choose the wizard and being in possession of Bellatrix's wand had been an education. She hadn't missed the look of slight smugness on Harry's face when she'd complained of its prowess at Shell Cottage. Be that as it may…

She walked to the side table by her bed and opened the drawer. Not many knew she still possessed it but it was something she could not give up. 12 ½ inches Walnut. Dragon heartstring. The implement of her torture that day. She didn't know exactly why but knowing the wand was in her possession made her feel a little calmer and more in control. It was also to remember. To never forget.

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><p>He was slender and tall. It was a good posture to have. He could remain in tight spots, fairly undetected in the right light. The permanent wearing of black and white was a good help when spying.<p>

He'd stood at the back of the offices where the lights were off and had remained there for a good ten minutes, observing. She'd left the door open, as always, so his view was fairly unrestricted. He had been within the Ministry to get some news on whether anything new had come up. The Ministry were a most unhelpful bunch, when it came to delivering him news of strange happenings within their world, instead only coming to him when they were all out of other ideas. Which was quickly occurring on a weekly basis.

He knew, of course, that she had a habit of not going home until the night sky had grown ebony, even in Summer, and, in the past, he could understand why but now… this was interesting.

Ten minutes was all it took to appraise her.

Well-paid but not well-pampered

Recently estranged from friends

Distant to family

Undesirable living conditions

Unhappy romantic history

Hero complex, still within her

Yes… she would do quite nicely.


	2. Mysteries within the Ministry

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the plot, or the characters. **

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><p>Wednesday morning had proved a rather difficult one for the Ministry. There had been another one. Another suicide. Only this time it was fast becoming apparent that these deaths weren't self-inflicted.<p>

Susan Bones had been found dead in a block of flats in South London. The circumstances were once again mirroring that of the other two. There was shock and amazement at Susan's 'suicide' for she had been on a night out the evening before her body was found, and had been drinking and laughing the entire night. She had disappeared some time after twelve and her body was found the next morning. No one could make sense of it. Katie Bell had been interviewed by Aurors and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and had confirmed tearfully that Susan had been in great spirits. Susan wasn't prone to any depressive emotions or mood swings and was in a happy relationship with Justin Finch-Fletchley. She'd taken the same potion that had killed the others. It was just too similar.

The first, Marcus Flint, had been found in his Manor with the empty vial of potion lying on his coffee table. This had been a little unusual and quite a shock to people but not particularly unexplainable. Flint was married to Daphne Greengrass, which was known to have been a volatile relationship, so much so that he had taken several mistresses in the space of five years, and he was known to be a gambler who had lost a fair amount of Galleons as a result. Maybe the pressure just got too much. Tragic but not unexplainable.

The second was more peculiar and more questions were asked. Penelope Clearwater was found in a disused shop with the same empty vial of potion as Flint. This was more strange. Penelope, although quiet and living a fairly solitary life, had shown no personal problems, financial or otherwise. Her co-worker had claimed she'd been in fairly normal spirits when he'd seen her last. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement were a little more concerned with this but had no proof. It was written off as a tragic death and testament that you just don't know what happens behind closed doors.

This case, however, was just too much of a coincidence.

Theodore Nott ran his hands through his hair. Potter was now sure that he had a murder case, a strange murder case, on their hands and the Head of the Auror office Gawain Robards agreed with him. The Daily Prophet were going to run the story. People would start panicking. He could do without this.

Nott was Head of Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. He was the youngest for a few centuries at the ripe age of twenty-five. A great honour. And a great bloody headache at times. He envied Aurors at times - they got the fun part: going out there and catching the bad guys. Nott's job was the hard part where you have to decipher the identity of the villain and figure out where he, she or they were. With this case, the Auror office would want all his team on the case till the early hours.

Theo stood outside the door of the Minister's office and, with a repressed sigh, opened it. Kingsley Shacklebolt was sat behind his desk, reading through several parchments, apparently at the same time. He glanced up at Theo and set them down again.

"You asked to see me, Minister?" Theo asked, stepping closer to the desk.

"Yes, no doubt you know why." Kingsley retrieved a newspaper and chucked it lazily to Theo's side of the desk. The picture of Susan Bones' smiling face was the front page story. "Such a pleasant girl. Her aunt adored her. Why is it that the Bones family all meet tragic ends?"

"I don't know, Sir." Theo answered, his tone suitably low. "I suppose now we are treating these as linked."

"Oh, yes." Kingsley answered, his low voice even deeper and foreboding than normal. "This is too big a coincidence. The potion is exactly the same as that of Flint and Clearwater. We need to act fast. I need your department to look at any links or motives behind the killings."

Theo nodded slowly. He needed to ask the question but he needed it asked carefully.

"And… if my team hit a brick wall? What then?"

Kingsley looked up at Theo with his dark eyes that read that he understood the question perfectly. His furrowed eyebrows indicated that it was one he'd been expecting and dreading.

"Then… and only then…you call Him. But only, _only, _on the usual conditions."

Theo's smile didn't reach his lips but he was sure it was in his eyes. That was all he needed. With a gracious nod to the Minister, he departed the room and strode towards the offices he governed.

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><p>Hermione walked through the Atrium in a grim mood. She'd had better starts to the day. She'd woken up to find Crookshanks (whose presence in her flat she had to keep secret due to a ban on pets) sat on top of her and had the fright of her life when she woke to see his grumpy yellow eyes staring down at her. The admin staff seemed to be on a mission to waylay their reports on the conditions of Unicorns for as long as possible and now she'd been informed through a newspaper article that yet another class mate was dead. Poor Susan, she'd only seen her a month ago. She'd seemed light hearted and cheery. Another suicide? She thought not.<p>

The Atrium was packed with the various workers of the Ministry all filing out for their lunch break. They were all a sea of faces and she wasn't particularly looking who she was passing as she headed for the canteen. So distracted was she that she didn't see someone come around the corner and bump her shoulder, causing her files to fall from her grip and scatter on the floor. Cursing quietly, she made a hasty apology to the person without looking up, too busy trying to collect her papers.

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up at the voice she recognised. A man of stout stature and blond hair stood before her. He looked somewhat bedraggled, with his white lab coat covered in spills and soot but he had a cheery smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ernie." Hermione stood to her full height. Even without her heels, she was slightly taller than him.

"How are you?" He asked, pleasantly. "How've you been?"

"I'm well, thank you. Department is busy and you know me. Love to keep busy." Her voice trailed off a little at the last sentence. Partly due to Ernie's slightly glazed eyes. She could have kicked herself. No point asking if he was okay. "I'm so sorry about Susan."

"Still in shock." He replied, his gaze now going over her shoulder. "Justin's staying with me. Felt bad leaving him alone but Kingsley needs me."

Hermione put her hand on the man's shoulder and squeezed. Susan, Justin and Ernie had been in Hufflepuff together in their year and resembled Harry, Ron and her, apart from their tendency to chase trouble.

"Would you like to come to lunch with me?" She asked gently.

Ernie looked ready to argue his busy workload but Hermione was ready for him.

"Please? If Justin has needed your support, I can guarantee you need someone's too."

Ernie couldn't argue with her logic. He allowed her to lead him into the cafeteria. Truth be told, Hermione didn't want to talk about the topic at all. It just seemed to be an endless barrage of bad news lately. She wasn't a selfish woman however. Sitting Ernie down, she retrieved two strong cups of black coffee and a toasted tea cake for them both, though she intended to get Ernie to eat her portion if needs be. He took a shaky sip.

"Thank you. It's not been an easy two days."

"I'm sure. How is Justin?"

"Destroyed. He has spoken a single word since we found her. It makes no sense. But it was no suicide."

"How do you know? I'm sorry," Hermione corrected quickly when Ernie looked up sharply. She'd normally be more tactful in her later years, "but is it officially a murder investigation?"

"Nott's got his whole office on it. It's linked."

"Have you seen the potion she took?" Hermione knew Ernie was a Potion expert who worked within the labs (hence the messy overcoat). Ernie glanced around.

"It's the same one. Same ingredients, same measurements, the lot. No way are these suicides. It's murder."

Hermione gripped her cup harder. Who would do this?

"But then what links Susan, Penelope and Marcus? They were all as different as they came!"

"No idea." Ernie mused, "But Kingsley wants this looked at. Otherwise it may happen again."

"God forbid." Hermione murmured.

"Who?"

"Never mind."

"How've you been? I heard Ron and you have split up."

"Who hasn't?" Hermione sighed glumly. She wasn't particularly keen on this change in conversation but she knew Ernie wouldn't want to talk about the other topic up for debate very much. It was too fresh.

"Any chance of a reconciliation?"

"I highly doubt it." Hermione sighed, taking a tentative sip of coffee.

"So where are you living?"

"Flat in Camden. Pokey little place. I wont be staying long. I'm determined. I hate it."

"Cant you share with a friend?"

"All my friends are married off or living with their partners. Besides, I'm not an easy person to live with, apparently." She spat the last word. It was one of Ron's frequent complaints. Totally unjustified to her. Just because she liked to keep things clean. She looked at Ernie. He had a hint of a smile on his face, though it was quite half-hearted. "What?"

"Well, you're not the only one. Working with someone in the lab. He says the same."

"Who's that?"

Ernie looked at Hermione, his eyebrows slightly raised as though amused. He drank the last of his coffee. "I'll show you." And before Hermione could argue, he was striding towards the exit, towards the lab.

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><p>Hermione had followed Ernie down into the laboratory in a state of confusion and curiosity. The labs were filled with cauldrons, test tubes and microscopes. Hermione had always been fascinated by Potions though Snape had been loathe to allow her to get anything above an E until her OWLs. She'd been offered a post in the laboratory after leaving Hogwarts but her heart lay with the elves and creatures of the magical world. She loved the science of it all though.<p>

Ernie walked to the door of one of the rooms and peaked inside. With a small smile, he nodded his head pointedly. "In there."

Hermione approached cautiously. She looked at Ernie. "What's fascinating in there?"

"Not what. _Who_. And believe me, you really have to see it to believe it. He's not meant to be here. Kingsley will have my wand for not reporting him. I don't know how he gets in. But sometimes… I just like to watch him." Ernie gave a small smile and then continued down the corridor towards his station.

Hermione was curious. Ernie never broke rules. He was reliable and always honest. So who would he let in to the labs who shouldn't be there?

Hermione slid through the door quietly. She was certainly within one of the most highly technological labs. Although without computers, it was white and had test tubes and different colour potions bubbling everywhere. And a man.

It didn't register immediately. Maybe it was shock. There was a man bending over a cauldron, in what looked like an expression of intense concentration. He wasn't wearing a lab coat. In fact, the most trouble he'd gone to was to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. Black and white, he was dressed in. Black tailored trouser suit slacks, and a white shirt. They looked expensive. Dragon skin black boots. A heavy overcoat and scarf thrown on a chair nearby. Long and lean, he looked. He had to be six foot minimum. Slender build but not skinny. Lean was the best description. It was the hair that alerted her. White blond. Neatly cut at the back with a hint of a fringe that hung loosely with his head bent as it was. The paleness of his skin was another. Milky or cream white. More colour than she remembered. The greyish tinge was gone and, although definitely not tanned, there was more colour in him to suggest he wasn't hours from death, as she seemed to remember from sixth year. Tapered fingers and hands. Still the same. Yes, there was no denying. Draco Malfoy was standing in the Ministry laboratory.

"You shouldn't leave your mouth hanging open like that, you know." His voice rang out. It was deeper than she remembered yet the drawl was still there. "It's rather unbecoming."

Hermione was baffled and offended all at once. He hadn't even looked up or done anything to acknowledge her presence. In fact, he still wasn't. His eyes were fixated on his work.

"What the _hell _are you doing here?" Hermione managed at last.

"Working." Malfoy replied curtly.

"You need a security check to even get into the Atrium!"

"Child's play. There are several hidden passages and codes to get about in this place. I remember them from when I worked here. Found them my first week in fact."

Hermione remembered that Malfoy had worked in the labs once as a potions expert when he had been nineteen, but he'd left six years ago.

"That doesn't mean you can just walk down here and start playing with our chemistry sets! Why didn't Ernie report you?"

"I think he finds me fascinating." Malfoy took a measurement from the cauldron and poured it into a beaker. "Most people do." He corked the beaker and stood to his full height, turning to face her. The smirk was still present. It was probably burnt onto his face. "Trust issues, was it?"

Hermione went silent for a moment. "I'm sorry?"

"What was it based on? Infidelity or demeanour in general?"

Hermione's breath had speeded up quite a considerable amount. What the hell…

"Are you trying to get a story on me and Ron's break-up?" She spat, suddenly shaking with rage.

"Well, if I was I would have written it in the first week." Malfoy caught hold of his long black coat and put it on without looking at her. He seemed rather disinterested with the entire conversation. "There's a flat on Baker Street. Prime location. A few feet away from work. I believe your friend Luna Lovegood owns it. The accommodation is affordable on your salary. I recommend you check it out."

Hermione's head was beginning to hurt. Why was he saying these things and how did he know so bloody much?

"What makes you think I'm looking for a flat? I have a flat."

"But one you hate. Probably because its pokey and damp but more likely because you're alone and it makes you think. And sometimes you don't want to think."

Malfoy wrapped his scarf around his neck and headed past Hermione in the direction of the door. Hermione tried to remain blasé and stern but she was winded. _How the hell did he know that… _

"What? That's it?"

"That's what?" Malfoy inquired calmly.

"I've just reprimanded you for breaking into a top secret location of the Ministry and you've become my personal estate agent? I haven't seen you for eight years. Why would you help me?"

Malfoy stood before for a moment, a look of arrogant calm on his sharp features and then spoke in a lazy drawl. "I know you live alone in a delegated and lonely flat within Camden. I know you broke off the relationship with Ronald Weasley due to a lack of things in common and general disharmony in the relationship. You're estranged from your parents and more recently your friends due to the break up of your relationship. You're well paid but don't use payment to make yourself look particularly grand indicating a sense of practicality still within you. And you're bored with your life even though you hate yourself for feeling it." Malfoy was quiet and half smirked at the look of complete bafflement on her face. "Not bad for a man who has had no contact with you for eight years, wouldn't you say?"

Malfoy turned on his heel and headed for the door. He called over his shoulder.

"221B Baker Street. Check it out. Good day."

And with that the door swung closed.

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><p><strong>Hope this is ok. I really like this concept as I've become as addicted to Sherlock as I have Harry Potter. If you haven't watched the BBC version of Sherlock I highly reccomend it. It is mind-blowing! And also something about a mysterious, all seeing Draco is highly fascinating. <strong>


	3. 221B Baker Street

**Thank you so much for the reviews and alerts. Got myself a lovely week off university so I have the time to write a lot more. Hope you enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, the mysteries belong to Conan Doyle and Moffet and the characters belong to Rowling. **

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><p>Hermione sat at her desk, feeling a distinct mixture of bewildered, cross and intrigued. To begin with, she spent the beginning of the afternoon trying to work out how Malfoy had essentially managed to decipher her life with a single glance. His entrance into the Ministry was also most worrying. There were holes in the security, which was dangerous, if Malfoy was playing with their equipment for his own means. She knew she needed to report it but it was somewhat fruitless if she didn't know where the entrances were. She didn't have the privilege of a Marauders Map of the Ministry.<p>

She twiddled her quill in her fingers. She felt somewhat torn. Her logical side told her to brush off their meeting as another reason to dub this a very bad day indeed and get on with her work like she always did. But how… had he… know? And what the hell was that business about that flat?

Baker Street. She knew that street. It was a posh place to live and was indeed a prime location for a Ministry official and anybody living in London. Expensive though. Ron had insisted upon viewing a flat there himself once and, although tempting, the price was just too much.

She had heard that Luna was living in London but hadn't had the opportunity to look her up and have lunch with the girl. She wanted to see Luna as, bizarre a girl as she was, she was also gentle, kind and totally non-pulsed by social conventions. Which basically meant that she would have seen Hermione's break-up with Ron as nothing more than a blip and would carry on as though nothing had changed. It hadn't really, not between them, but people didn't seem to take that view these days…What she didn't understand was how Luna had come to acquire such a prominent property in the first place.

The cynic inside her told her that it could very well be a trap. Malfoy was in no stretch of the imagination a trustworthy man. In fact, every single action of his life had indicated that trusting him was a destructive and corrosive occupation. He was hardly one for handing out friendly helpful advice. But if Luna was involved it couldn't be dangerous.

She looked at the clock. Half past four. It would be time to clock out soon and go home. That settled it. Grabbing her beaded bag, she marched out of the office and told her secretary that she was going to run some errands. It didn't matter if she had to sleep in a cardboard box - she was getting out of that flat.

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><p>Nott had been furiously reading through the parchments sent to him by Ernie Macmillan from the lab when the door opened. Looking up in irritation, he took in his assistant. Hannah Abbott, who had been next to useless today due to her grief at losing her fellow Hufflepuff, looked wide-eyed.<p>

"Sir, there's been another one!" Nott took a moment to truly register what she was saying before jumping to his feet and holding out his hand for the parchment. Practically ripping it from her hands, he read it in desperation. His eyes widened.

"Sweet Circe." He breathed as he read the details. He looked to Hannah. "Get our men down there and keep the scene as untouched as possible. And make sure He is home."

Hannah's eyes widened. "But Sir-"

"Abbott. No arguments."

Hannah flushed a deep shade of pink and scuttled out of the room. Theo read the parchment in his hand. Oh boy, Draco was going love this.

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><p>221B Baker Street didn't look in the least bit threatening. It looked bohemian and upper class. The black door was in need of a few licks of paint and it was sat right next to a sandwich shop which looked posh and smelt quite appetising. Hermione clutched her beaded bag tightly and tentatively rang the doorbell. Black taxis were passing behind her as she waited.<p>

The door opened and she relaxed even more. Luna Lovegood was stood within the entrance of the door. The small former Ravenclaw was standing in the doorway. She was wearing a floor length periwinkle blue dress with scarves of various length and colours wrapped around long neck. Her long blonde hair was unchanged. It still reached the small of her back and was wavy, reminding Hermione a little of a mermaid. The vacant dreamy look was still ever present.

"Oh hello, Hermione." Her airy sing-song voice with the beautifully delicate Irish accent was there. Hermione could help but smile in affection.

"Hi Luna. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Wrackspurts are a nuisance in my larder but I should be able to get them to a new home soon."

Yep, no change whatsoever.

"Oh that's… that's nice." Hermione managed, trying to sound like it was an everyday occurrence, which it probably was for Luna. "Um… I might be wrong but… do you have a room available? It's just I heard…"

"Oh it's true, yes. I can't seem to find anyone to want to take it. I've interviewed lots but they never call back."

Hermione forced a tight smile. Well, this didn't bode well. Luna stepped aside allowing Hermione leave way to step into the flat. Hermione stiffly walked inside. She didn't know what to expect now. Had Malfoy recommended a complete dive just so she would have to squirm her way out of it due to the fact an old friend owned it?

The hallway looked fine. Clean and tidy. The wooden stairs was partially carpet covered. Luna walked ahead of her.

"That's my home." She pointed to the door to the right of the stairway. She climbed the stairs in a half-skip, half walk state, causing her light dress to sway behind her. Hermione walked behind her slowly. Luna smiled at Hermione and opened the door at the top of the stairs. Hermione braised herself and stepped inside. Oh…

Oh, this really wasn't so bad. There was a definite feel of lack of redecoration to the place. The wall paper was old and the carpet was blood red. It had a very 80s feel to the place and reminded her a little of her grandmother's old home. It was spacious and comfortable and a little eccentric. She quite liked it. There were boxes of stuff everywhere. She could tidy it up most certainly; make it homely.

"It's nice." She concluded, trying not to wince at the blatant surprise in her voice. Luna didn't seem to notice. "I could clear this stuff out and make it look good."

"Oh, this isn't junk. This is your flatmates stuff."

Hermione turned. "Flatmate?"

"Well, he said he'd get someone to share with so he wouldn't be bored. I thought it was a little strange but he insisted you'd be interested."

"I'm sorry. Who-" But her question was cut off by footsteps coming up the stairs. She knew who it was before he even entered but she still hoped beyond hope that she had been mistaken. To no avail.

Malfoy looked perfectly innocent and calm as he came up behind Luna and couldn't contain the smirk that took over his features at the sight of Hermione looking flushed and gaping like a fish. Luna turned and smiled at Malfoy.

"You were right." She smiled brightly. "I think Hermione likes my flat." Hermione nearly curled up and cringed at the undisguised joy in Luna's voice at Hermione's approval.

"Oh, isn't that nice." He smiled, looking at Hermione the whole time. "Lovegood, can you give us a moment?"

"Okay." She smiled brightly at Hermione and went back down where Malfoy had came. Hermione waited until she heard the door to her flat close before she released her inner lioness.

"Why?" She spat. "Why trick me? In fact, don't answer. I should have realised that you were just being a prick for the fun of it."

"I fail to see how exactly I tricked you, Granger." Malfoy replied, looking a little amused and confused in a fashion that alerted Hermione to the fact that he knew exactly what he'd done. "I simply notified you of the vacancy of a flat whose rent you could afford."

"Then how does flat sharing with you come into it?" She raged.

"Well, come on Granger, even on your salary and Lovegood's eagerness to rent it out, you couldn't afford the rent all alone. But between us… no such problem shall exist."

"I'm looking at a bloody big existing problem, right this minute." Hermione practically screeched. It only made Malfoy's smirk deepen.

"Still feisty then?" He inquired sweetly.

"No bullshitting Malfoy. Why? You could afford this place easily. Why try roping me in? Or is this just a sick little giggle for you to watch me having to break the news to Luna how I could never in a million years take this flat?"

"For one, Lovegood is an amusing creature just by herself. I don't need to poke fun at her for a giggle. And two, I actually do need a flat share who will not bother me too much, even if it is because you're hiding in your bedroom, and has an IQ large enough to keep me mentally stimulated when our paths do cross, even if it does mean we just swear at each other in various languages."

"Then why not get one of your fellow Slytherins to live with you then?"

"Half of them have either lost contact with me, dead or married. Besides, to some, this is considered a step down. I'm downsizing a little."

"Well good luck with that." Hermione went to stride past him but he lazily caught hold of her arm and dragged her back.

"Surely, you should take this as a compliment, Granger. I'm deeming you an equal to share my home with. I bet you never expected that of me."

"Well, as flattering as that is," Hermione stated, grabbing her beaded bag all the tighter and her voice laced with contempt, "I could never live with someone as conceited and arrogant as you. Godric's rod, what a week, first the work, then the flat, and then three people die-"

"Four."

"What?" Hermione snapped her head in irritation towards him again, having been distracted with sorting her bag. Malfoy wasn't looking at her. He was looking into the fireplace and his eyes had turned molten.

"There's been a fourth." Hermione followed his eye line. The fireplace was sparking green and suddenly flames shot up. A head poked through the emerald inferno. Malfoy strode forward and bent down. "Yes?" He addressed the head sharply.

The head Hermione recognised as Hannah Abbott, a member of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, was poking through. She looked decidedly flushed at the sight of Malfoy and Hermione couldn't decipher whether she was nervous of him or just fancied him. Probably both, Hermione concluded.

"Mr. Malfoy, Theodore Nott wants to speak with you."

"Send him through." Malfoy commanded. Hannah gave a quick nod and disappeared. Malfoy stood poker straight and looked rigid in his facial features. It was as though he was in a deep state of concentration. Hermione knew she should just grab her possessions and run out of the building while Draco was distracted and Luna was downstairs. Her interest was piqued though. What was that about?

The flames rose up in the fireplace. The tall, thin frame of the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, Theodore Nott, stepped onto the red carpet. Whilst Malfoy looked more or less unchanged from his school years, apart from looking broader, taller and healthier, Nott looked distinctly different. Stress of the job had softened his features and his hair was longer and looked a little scruffy. He looked quite foreboding in his Ministry robes of office. He was the same height as Malfoy so they were eye-level as Malfoy spoke.

"Another one?"

"Oh yes." Nott went to carry on when he caught sight of Hermione. "What the hell's Granger doing here?"

"Ignore her. She's irrelevant." Hermione went to shout back an expletive at being called 'irrelevant' but Malfoy had already continued talking. "Will Potter be there?"

"More than likely, this is being treated as a murder inquiry. We've got an hour before he gets there though. You never take longer than ten minutes."

Hermione looked from Nott, who looked wary of her presence due to the topic they were discussing, and Malfoy who didn't seem to deem her presence as even notable at that moment. "Is the network prepared?"

"You'll have to Apparate. It's more discreet. Kingsley insists no-one else sees you. You know what he's like." Theo turned to walk back into the fire before addressing Malfoy again. "You know you want this case. Don't be an arsehole and act all aloof." He stepped into the flames and was gone.

Malfoy waited for a few seconds before clapping his hands together and darting across the room.

"Finally! Finally some co-operation. Kingsley _must _be desperate!"

Hermione snapped out of her trance with a little effort and shook herself. "I'm sorry, what the hell was all that about?"

"A case, Granger. I've got myself a spot on the case." He wrapped his scarf around his neck and threw on his heavy overcoat. Luna came gliding up the steps into their apartment as he hurriedly readied himself.

"So, do you like it, Hermione?"

"It's… a lovely flat Luna. Very retro and spacious but…"

"She just needs to think it over a little." Malfoy chipped in, "She'll have an answer by the end of the day for you, Lovegood."

"Oh, that's good." Luna looked to Malfoy. "Are you going out?"

"Oh yes, Lovegood. I've got some investigating to do!"

"Well, it's nice that you've got a hobby." Luna concluded airily. "Pity it's such a dangerous one."

"Danger is good, Lovegood, danger keeps me young." Malfoy went to descend the stairs but Hermione was ready for him.

"Hang on! You can't possibly be about to enter a crime scene?"

"Well that's certainly my intention Granger. Otherwise I'll never get my work done."

"But it's against Ministry procedure!" Hermione was outraged. "Nott can't possibly allow this!"

"Nott can't, no, but Kinglsey can." Malfoy quickly skirted around Hermione and made for the stairs. Hermione wasn't easily beaten and ran after him.

"Malfoy, you haven't got the authentication! Only Aurors and Magical Reinforcement do!"

"Well then call me a rebel if you like but between you and me," he leaned in close to her so she felt his breath on her face. She flushed a dull pink. "I couldn't give a shit." Hermione was so outraged that it gave Malfoy enough time to step back and Apparate right before her eyes to God-knows where. She staggered back up the stairs, a mixture of amazement and indignation.

"Is he gone?" Luna asked, kindly. She was cleaning the table in the kitchen. It was covered with various junk along with cauldrons, potion ingredients and bubbling containers with potions of various neon colours. Hermione didn't think it wise for Luna to attempt to clean this. The young woman risked blowing herself up should she touch the wrong thing or worse giving Malfoy the rather cosy notion that she would clean up for him, free of charge.

"Y-Yeah." Hermione managed, trying to keep her head from spinning with the activities of the afternoon. "Has he done this before? Run off and solved mysteries?"

"Oh yes." Luna smiled calmly. "He doesn't tell me very much, in fact sometimes he's silent for days on end, but he seems to love it."

"Yes, I gathered that." Hermione wanted more information. "Are you two… friends?"

"Yes, I think so. Though he only refers to me as his landlady. I don't think he likes the idea of friends these days. He's different from when he was at school. He's a bit weird these days. I like that." Hermione could only nod. Luna and Malfoy being friends. Well, there were no signs that hell had frozen over yet. "Would you like some tea?" Luna asked gently.

"Um, no thank you." Hermione moved back towards the living room and sat herself in one of the arm chairs. Her head was throbbing. Since when had the world got so strange?

"You are Healer trained."

Hermione jumped at the sound of Malfoy's voice. He was resting against the door frame and looking at her.

"What?"

"You were Healer trained." He repeated.

"But not qualified. Only tutored by Madame Pomfrey. I changed my mind and went to work for the Ministry instead."

"Still, I bet you still remember what was taught."

"Well, obviously." Hermione stood up. "They are handy lessons to have."

"Quiet life you live now then. No action, no danger. Nice and peaceful."

"I think I've earned that." Hermione replied, her and Malfoy were now face to face, both steely eyed.

"Most certainly." Malfoy stepped closer. "Come with me."

"What? No! Certainly not." Hermione argued horrified.

"Why not?"

"Why- why do you think?" Hermione demanded. "I should report you to the Wizandgamot."

"Then why haven't I already been arrested? You already threatened me with that when you found me in the labs."

"I… well I- I was shocked. I needed to plan what to do."

"Of course you did(!)" Hermione's clenched her fists in irritation. "Surely if you're with me Granger, you can see that there's no foul play and give a medical opinion. Plus you might lend a hand catching a killer which would, even by your moral code, be a good thing regardless of how."

Malfoy turned and walked back down the stairs. Hermione would ponder whether it was her nosiness, her need to help people or just general intrigue that led her to run after him in later years. Not that it mattered because there was really nothing running through her head as she descended the stairs and was pulled away by the force of side along Apparition.


	4. An Analysis of an Enigma

**Thank you for all the lovely alerts and reviews. They make me pink with glee. I'm currently full of flu so I thought I would update seeing as I've added a chapter to Tread Softly. I'm glad so many people like the merging of two worlds. It's strange but sort of works. **

**DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to J.K Rowling and the plot belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for the creation and Stephen Moffet for the interpretation. (Watch BBC Sherlock - it is one of the best television series I've ever watched!) **

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><p>The room they Apparated into was as dank as they came. A strong smell of damp and decay filled Hermione's nostrils. There was nothing in the room at all. No furniture, some peeling wallpaper and no carpet. It struck Hermione that they were in a long-time abandoned house. Malfoy walked to the door before them and pressed his ear against it. There were murmurings on the other side. From her position, Hermione could hear Nott's distinctive authoritarian voice ordering the people out of the room for a few moments as he 'examined the area'. They waited three beats before Draco opened the door and stepped through. Hermione followed on tiptoe.<p>

The room was pretty much identical to the one they had just vacated except for the presence of a body lying face down on the floor. A woman with long black hair that hid her face. Malfoy walked around the body slowly. Nott looked to Hermione.

"Hang on!" He exclaimed, looking at Malfoy indignantly. "I didn't say you could bring her!"

"She's of the medically trained, albeit briefly, and she's smart. You do the math."

Draco bent down and brushed the hair out of the woman's face. Hermione gasped.

Cho Chang's pretty face looked asleep in death. She looked much the same as she did when they had been together in Hogwarts. Another friend dead. God, how had this happened?

"Don't start whimpering Granger, it won't bring her back." Malfoy said dryly, his eyes scanning the body, alert and alive. Hermione felt the overwhelming urge to slap him stupid but Nott just shook his head, in a 'don't bother getting worked up' way. Clearly he was used to Malfoy's bluntness and was a little wary of it himself. Malfoy didn't seem aware of it anyway. He was scanning the body with eyes that seemed to x-ray.

"Malfoy, I've got three minutes. Don't doddle."

"Granger." Malfoy summoned her and dumbly she knelt beside the body. Hermione felt the urge to try and straighten Cho up, by righting her hair or coat. Yet she was conscious of showing weakness in front of Malfoy. As gentle as she could, she examined her body temperature and took in as much as she could.

"She hasn't been here too long. She's still warm." Her lip trembled but pride stopped her from shedding tears. "Um… she must have choked."

"Because she choked on the poison." Malfoy finished. Hermione looked at him. "We both know cause of death."

"Then what exactly do you need me for? Why bring me here? To see her like this!" Hermione's wearing patience was just about ready to snap.

"Because I need someone who will help me and isn't infuriating to the last degree." He looked up at her. "Still one out of two's not bad."

Before Hermione could grab her wand and hex his tongue out his mouth, Nott interrupted.

"Malfoy! I need anything!"

"Woman in her mid twenties. Death by poisoning. Smartly dressed, but not for work. Cho Chang lives in Scotland and only visits London on occasion so she wasn't staying long. Likely got off at Paddington. Likely she had planned a taxi but it didn't turn up."

"She could have Apparated." Nott shrugged.

"To this place?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "Besides she couldn't Apparate. She'd had a few wines with her dinner and couldn't."

"What are you talk-"

"Smell her!" Malfoy pointed to the body. "Distinct smell of red wine. Not very good quality either." He added as an afterthought. "Her cuffs. Tiny specks of red wine. Not so faded it could be from another incident so it happened today. Also indicates she had more than one. Her hands were shaking. Possibly needed it for nerves."

Hermione stared wide-eyed at him and looked at Cho's white cuffs. Sure enough, tiny miniscule dots of red were on there. So discreet they could have quite easily been missed.

"London is filled with taxis." Nott replied looking annoyed as though Malfoy was doing this simply to wind him up.

"Cho Chang was carrying a trunk on wheels. She would have been more subtle about it. She would have arranged a Ministry car. She probably meant to ring over lunch but the wines took her mind off of it."

"Ministry?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. It seemed exasperating to him that no one could see what he did though how he expected them to was beyond Hermione.

"Yes of course! Cho Chang has a chain of wizarding businesses in Scotland. Recently though she's been hit by financial difficulties. Its been well publicised. Hardly surprising. These are bad times for the economy, small businesses inevitably suffer. Michael Corner works in the Department of Magical Maintance. Both were in Ravenclaw so she would have used that old connection in order to save her businesses. He may even have been able to arrange a loan or agreement with Gringotts had it come to that, though unlikely. Ring Corner and get all you can from him."

"How… how did you know she had a trunk?"

"All the paper work she would need to produce for Corner would have weighed a ton. If she were to maintain any dignity when getting out of the station, she would have need a fairly big trunk. Now where is it?"

"Where is what?" Nott asked.

"The trunk. It could have more information."

"Draco, there was no trunk. We just found a body. She doesn't even have a wand."

Malfoy stopped pacing and seemed to turn this information over in his mind. Hermione would have loved this to be proof that he had actually got something wrong but didn't because she knew that it didn't make sense at all.

"She must have had something." Hermione questioned. "A wand, a purse, she couldn't have come to be here from Scotland all alone."

"Exactly, which is why we called him." Nott jerked his head in Malfoy's direction who looked wild and alive.

"This is the best we could hope for." He whispered. Nott and Hermione turned back to him, both with baffled expressions at Malfoy's happy tone.

"What?" Nott demanded.

"Don't you get it?" Malfoy near enough shouted. "The killer he's made their first mistake. They always do. Now we reel them in." Malfoy went to continue pacing when suddenly voices rang out from under the floorboards. Familiar ones.

"Potter, Weasley." Nott breathed. Hermione's eyes widened and her heart rate sped up. "Get out! I'll talk to you later about this; just go!"

Malfoy caught hold of Hermione's arm tightly and Hermione was soon pulled from the room. They landed in a new location not a second later. It was dark but there were flashing lights everywhere. She soon gathered they had just landed outside of the building they had just vacated. She also realised that Malfoy was striding away at a quick pace.

"Wait!" Hermione called after him. "Where are you going?"

"Following the trail." Malfoy called back lazily before once again Apparating away before her very eyes. Hermione stopped and then let out a bark of annoyance. Did he really need to keep doing that? Aimlessly, she walked back to the front of the house. The Aurors and Department of Magical Law Enforcement were all so preoccupied with their duties they didn't notice her looking on. The house was in a good street but there was a definite look of neglect. What a place to die, she thought mournfully.

Hermione stood in the shadows on the night for a long time before Nott finally emerged from the house. He looked exhausted and tense. In fact, he looked like he was dancing on his last nerve. Before he could move to Apparate away, Hermione stepped into his line of sight, halting any movements he would have made. They stood simply studying one another for a while.

"Are you going to report me to Potter?"

It was clear that it was the one thing that he'd been worried about. With good reason, for even with Kingsley's blessing, Harry still held a lot of sway in the Ministry.

"No." Hermione sounded surprised herself at the answer but it was true. Somehow she didn't want to tell Harry, even if she knew that, morally and logically, she really, really should. Nott looked surprised then amazed.

"Why not?" He asked.

"I don't know," Hermione honestly didn't, "but I doubt he'd believe me anyway."

Nott nodded as though still in disbelief and then went to move away.

"Hang on!" Hermione called. "Has been always been like this? Malfoy, I mean. Has he always been so… so…"

"So annoyingly right all the time?" Nott asked. Hermione shrugged. "Not to this extent, no. He's always been observant right from when we first met when we were eleven. He could read people well. We used to call him "Snake Eyes". But no, he was never like… this." Nott actually looked thoughtful of how Malfoy was like that in the first place. It seemed to baffle even him. "He went strange after the war. He didn't come back to school and, when I eventually saw him again, he was completely different." He looked at Hermione with narrowed eyes. "What were you doing in that flat?"

"I'd … come to see Luna Lovegood." That wasn't a lie, Hermione reasoned. That had originally been the intention. "Why did you come to him if you knew you'd get in trouble?"

Nott sighed, clearly tired, "Because, as much as I don't understand Draco anymore, he is good at this. He can determine anything from a single glance. He once determined what I had for lunch by my posture. Apparently a sandwich makes me hunch my shoulders."

"How has nobody worked it out yet?" Hermione persisted. "I mean, something like this, it can't be kept a secret forever. People talk."

"We just have to keep it quiet from the Aurors."

"But Harry and Ron hold a lot of sway in the Ministry and hold a lot of loyalties. Why wouldn't people report it?"

Nott smirked at this as though amused at Hermione's reasoning. "Wow, you are out of the loop in the Elf office ain't you? Things have changed."

"What do you mean?"

Hermione was certain she would have got an answer had they not been interrupted.

"Oi!" Nott and Hermione looked to the right. Nott growled and mumbled an expletive and Hermione had to fight the urge to not do the same. Ron Weasley and Harry Potter had just emerged from the house and had caught sight of her. Hermione considered turning on her heels and running for it but it was pointless.

Ron's face was pink, his eyes narrowed with suspicion and obviously displeasure at having to see his ex. Harry looked simply shocked. Ron reached them before Harry could.

"What are you doing here?" Ron demanded. He turned to Nott. "I hope you're not disclosing confidential details."

"Of course I'm not, Weasley." Nott spat, his jaw locked and his speech coming out between gritted teeth.

"Then what are talking about?" Ron demanded.

"Not that it is actually any of your business, Ronald, but I have a case of elf abuse that I am researching. I'm seeking a prosecution against the owner. Nott has been letting me know what sort of sentence to seek." Hermione couldn't believe how naturally it sounded. She'd always been a horrific liar and yet when it tripped off her tongue effortlessly. For the first time in her life, she was lying to protect Slytherins.

Ron's eyes narrowed. It was clear he didn't believe her. The atmosphere was tenser than anything Hermione had ever experienced. This was the first time they had come face-to-face since she'd moved out. He'd not changed much. Still tall, broad and bad tempered.

"Who's this owner of the elf then?" He asked, clearly intending to trip her up.

"Oh come along now Weasley." Nott answered before Hermione could grapple for an answer, "Such a sensitive case as this requires the utmost confidentiality until we have enough to make an arrest. Surely they taught you such rules in Auror training?"

Ron went red in the face and Hermione felt the first wave of affection for Nott. She wasn't so naïve as to think he'd done this for her however. It was as plain as the hair on Ron's head that winding up Weasley was the highlight of Nott's day should such an opportunity arise and in order to make him angry he was willing to do anything - even if it meant supporting her story.

"Well then, I'm sure that you appreciate that such confidentiality is required for this case even more so that an elf one. So you'll have to leave." Ron lifted the police tape that surrounded the area (the Muggle Prime Minister allowed them to use it to keep suspicion at a minimum as long as a Muggle worthy explanation was given for the papers) and Hermione stepped under it, leaving the scene. She kept her back to him before a voice called.

"Hermione, wait!"

Hermione heart leapt with hope as she turned around. Harry lifted the tape and stepped out of the crime scene. Ron called his name with obvious irritation but Harry ignored him.

"Harry." She smiled a genuine smile. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thanks." Harry looked distinctly awkward. They had not spoken for over a month. "How's your department?

"Busy but rewarding." Hermione managed. "I'm sorry for coming here. It was an urgent case and I needed-"

"It's fine, Mione." Harry reassured. "Free country." Harry looked over his shoulder to check Ron was far away. He was indeed out of ear shot but Hermione was sure Harry could feel his death glare burning his neck. "It's Cho Chang." He said in a low voice. "She's dead."

Hermione managed to concoct a tiny gasp of surprise which felt hollow. Sympathy swam inside her. Cho Chang may have been a former love and a lifetime ago but to see someone you'd once cared for dead would leave anyone shaken.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sure you'll catch who's doing this." Hermione cautiously put her hand on his shoulder. Ron's glare was beginning to burn into her. "How's Ginny?"

"She's well. James is teething so we're up half the night." There was a distinct awkwardness building at the mention of his wife and in-laws. "In fact, she's pregnant again."

"Oh that's wonderful." Hermione was pleased. She knew how much Harry loved his family, having never had a true one himself. "Um, maybe I could pop around and see her. I have missed her. And little James." Hermione hated the hopeful eagerness in her voice but it couldn't be hidden. Harry looked like he was trying not to squirm.

"Um, well maybe, but it's a bit hectic at the moment. We're doing up the house and there are people back and forth all the time. She might be a bit overwhelmed if we gain anymore visitors."

Hermione's eyes prickled with emotion. She'd heard it before. The polite excuse. The first three times she'd let it go as she knew Ginny was Ron's sister and how awkward it must be for Harry. But the excuses weren't disappearing. Plus she knew it was a feeble excuse. The Burrow had always been crowded and Ginny was used to that.

"Oh well. Never mind. Maybe I'll send her an owl. Anyway, I hope it… all goes to plan. Bye Harry." She said this all rather fast and turned away. She walked quickly down the dark road, her eyes burning and her throat tight. She hoped beyond hope that maybe Harry would run after her and re-invite her for tea. A pathetic hope, as when she glanced back over her shoulder, he was by Ron's side, talking to him.

With all the dignity she possessed, Hermione walked away to the main road. She was unaware that someone was watching her…


	5. Interfering Influences

**Thanks so so much for the reviews and alerts. I'm delighted, I really am, in fact if I could squee without feeling like an idiot, I would. I don't normally update this quick but seeing as I'm still ill and bored to tears, why not? **

**DISCLAIMER: I own none of the characters, or the plot or anything **

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><p>Hermione walked down the main street, passing bustles of people as she went by, wiping her eyes with her hand. She suddenly felt cold and wished she had brought a coat, tugging her suit jacket tighter around herself. The main street was awash with takeaway stores, shops and flats above them. Hermione looked around her hopelessly. She was tired, confused and hungry. She contemplated getting a quick burger and chips from one of the takeaways and going back to her flat. The very idea however of returning to the little flat after the night she had just had was repugnant. It was just another reminder of her solitude and loneliness. She looked across the road. There was a café open. It seemed quiet. Without another thought, she hurried across towards it.<p>

The place was clean and tidy and deserted. She sat herself down at a table right at the back of the cafe and looked lazily with limited interest at a menu. A waitress took her order of a cup of tea and a large chicken and stuffing Panini. Hermione enjoyed the silence. Whilst a noisy office was normally her environment of choice, she knew that even if she was at a heavy metal gig, the memories and thoughts would be screaming just as loudly in her head. For once, the quiet was almost peaceful.

Hermione got out her compact and checked her make-up had not run too noticeably down her face. In a way, she was angry at herself for getting so emotional. Harry was Ginny's husband and subsequently Ron's brother-in-law. The Weasleys were famed for their family unity and loyalty. Harry owed the Weasleys a lot as Mrs. Weasley had been the mother he had never known. Ginny had let it be known that she was furious with Hermione when Ron and her had first broken up. Why had she let the relationship carry on so long if she had had no intention of ever marrying Ron? And yet it still stung. It stung just as deeply as it had when she'd fought with the two back in Hogwarts. And what made it worse was the very real possibility that this time, there would be no reunion.

Hermione sluggishly munched at her Panini and drank her tea. In an attempt to keep her mind off of Harry and Ron, she went back over the other thing that made her mind go into overdrive and was more fascinating than it was painful: Malfoy. The death of Cho Chang hung heavily in her heart but she was amazed at how much information Malfoy had been able to pick up from the tiniest of details. Nott hadn't been kidding; he was _good. _Hermione went over what Nott had told her outside the house. He'd always been observant apparently, but not like this. It was just as well Hermione thought absently as if Malfoy had been so annoyingly observant in Hogwarts, he would have been even worse to have dealt with than he had been anyway.

There'd been something strange about the way Nott looked as he discussed Malfoy with Hermione. He was clearly at a loss as to why Malfoy was the way he was and their relationship seemed odd. They had been in Slytherin in the same year and were both pure-bloods. Even if times had changed and prejudices weren't what they once were, they should still be good friends. Yet they seemed detached. Malfoy continuously referred to Nott as his surname and not Theo, despite Nott calling Malfoy his first name, Draco. He seemed more of a colleague to Malfoy than a friend and it seemed to annoy Nott a little bit. Nott seemed to admire and trust Malfoy enough to risk his job yet there was a permanent look of confusion in his eyes when they looked at each other. It was almost like he didn't recognise him. Hermione was sure she wore the same expression when her and Malfoy made eye contact. Because, despite the arrogance and sneakiness that would probably never leave him, he was a different man. Hermione wondered where Malfoy was now. He seemed to know where he was going yet didn't feel the need to discuss this with her. He clearly worked alone on these kinds of things.

Hermione tapped her toe against one of the table legs and sipped her tea. She looked at a small clock hanging on the wall. It was nearly ten o'clock. She had an early start in the morning so she would have to get home soon though it filled her with dread. She sipped her tea more slowly. She made a mental note to write that letter to Ginny. Everything needed to heal sooner or later. So preoccupied was she with her thoughts that she didn't notice what was happening around her.

The waitress, who had been watching her, quietly left the counter and took out her wand. She gave the signal and left out the back door.

The shutters shot down quickly, blocking out any visibility of the streets outside of the café to Hermione and subsequently of the goings on of the café to the people of London. The noise made Hermione look up from her tea to find the café empty and eerily silent.

"Are you closing?" She called out, hoping the waitress would answer. Nothing came. The lights started to flicker around her as though they were about to go off. Hermione drew her wand. What the hell was happening? There a loud pop and the lights went off altogether. Plunged into darkness, Hermione's breath came out in a gasps as she tried to fight her urge to panic. Before she could cast a quick 'Lumos' however the lights suddenly came back on, brighter than ever. And she wasn't alone.

A man with sharp expensive looking robes and a power suit beneath them was standing before her. He was tall, had a look of intelligence and power about him and arrogantly handsome features. He looked a little haughty but had a crooked sort of smirk at the look of complete amazement on Hermione's face. She didn't think he had much room to be surprised. Never in her life had she expected to see Blaise Zabini again.

"Miss. Granger." He greeted her formally. That was an improvement. He'd never so much as deigned to look in her direction at school.

"Zabini?"

"Hopefully I am not catching you at a bad time." He sighed, though from his body language it was apparent he didn't particularly care whether it was a bad time or not.

"Oh no. I mean, seeing as you've more or less turned the place I'm taking dinner into a fortress." Hermione's indignation was returning full force. Not tonight, she'd had what would probably go down on record as the worst day ever, she didn't want anymore headaches for at least a week.

"I'd rather we were not disturbed. Or seen."

"Seen? Seen talking to a Muggleborn, you mean?" Hermione's dislike for the man was growing. Zabini merely raised a shaped eyebrow.

"On the contrary to your belief that the world is against you Granger, it is I who have a considerable number of people who have a tendency to keep a little too watchful an eye on me."

Hermione didn't like the sound of that anymore than she would have if he had indeed not wanted to be seen with her.

"What is so important that an owl wouldn't have done the trick just as well?"

"It's a delicate matter. And my owls seem to have something of a habit of getting lost on the journey." Blaise stuffed his glove-covered hands into his pockets. "What is the business that you and Draco Malfoy are dealing in?"

Hermione looked blankly at him for a moment. That was it? That was all he wanted to know? An owl really would have been sufficient!

"There's no business. I went to view a flat on his recommendation. That's it."

"And yet he dragged you along to view a body on the way? Surely viewing the kitchen would have been more appropriate for such business?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "How…"

"-did I know?" Blaise merely smirked. "Draco isn't the only one who observes you know."

Hermione wondered how many members of Slytherin had gone on to become master spies. This was getting a bit much for even her to handle.

"Well, you two were friends. Rather than dragging me in for a chat, why don't you pop around and simply ask?"

"He's not one to receive visitors. And we are not what you would consider 'friends' anymore sadly."

"Then what business is it of yours at all?"

Blaise smiled weakly. "He may not want my friendship but I have obligations to people once close to him to keep something of an eye on him. He doesn't appreciate my efforts but alas…" Blaise looked to Hermione intensely. "What is it he's up to?"

Hermione didn't know why but she didn't want to tell Blaise anything. Although hardly winning her trust, he seemed a lot more straightforward and less shady than Malfoy. He seemed to be a high authoritarian figure. Maybe he worked for the Ministry. But she couldn't risk it. And also… she didn't want to.

"I've no idea." She lied.

"This is of great importance." Blaise looked like he had been expecting the response.

"I'm sure it is but it still doesn't mean I know what it is that Malfoy does or is doing."

Blaise smirked. "For a Gryffindor to be loyal to a Slytherin, he must have made quite the impression."

"He left a confusing impression. Which is no help." Hermione picked up her beaded bag and made to leave. "Sorry I couldn't be more help."

Hermione had passed two tables before Blaise spoke.

"I assume the Department you run is thrilling but judging by your reaction it seems you will be joining Mr. Malfoy in that little flat."

"I certainly won't." Hermione called back.

"Well, then you really should look at your left arm and think again."

Hermione stopped and turned back around. Blaise was looking remarkably calm.

"I beg your pardon."

"The twitch in your left arm is probably a result of the attack you endured from Bellatrix Lestrange at Malfoy Manor. Although no scar remains, the aftermath is mainly psychological. Strange though that it only twitches in times of calm. You've been talking to me, I've challenged you and, when you drew your wand when the lights went out, there wasn't so much of a tremor in your arm. It seems to me that the life you live is not quite enough for you anymore. Malfoy may be the antidote you need."

Hermione stared at Blaise with hard eyes for a moment before the lights suddenly went off again. As quickly as last time, the lights went back on and the shutters of the café flew back up. The café was restored to normality and Hermione was alone once again.

Hermione managed to leave the café and stood stock still on the pavement outside for a full moment, trying to digest what had just occurred. She looked at her left arm. It was motionless.

She started to walk down the street in the direction of an Apparition point so she could go home. She was tired and weary and just want to go to sleep and forget the day. Forget the flat. Forget the run in with Ron and Harry. Forget Zabini's questions. Forget Malfoy.

Standing on the Apparition spot, she looked around to check the coast was clear. She imagined where it was she wanted to go.

"Damn it!" She snapped as she turned on her heel and disappeared. She wasn't going home…

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><p>Nott returned to his home that evening, in a foul mood. The investigation had taken a rather weird turn with his one source of information disappearing completely before he could talk with him. The arrival of Potter and Weasley had been the headache he anticipated. Potter was tolerable and, if not pleasant, was astute enough in his work to at least have Nott's respect in his field. They weren't friends but they weren't enemies either. Unfortunately, where Potter came, Weasley always bloody followed. Weasley was a different matter entirely. Weasley seemed to have let his position as an Auror go completely to his head and he was obnoxious to Nott's staff. The fact that Hannah Abbott, a quiet, agreeable woman, had actually had to leave the room tonight before she said something that could cause her to lose her job. Nott was used to it. Weasley seemed to have the idea that just because a Slytherin was Head of Magical Law Enforcement, he had to treat the entire team with disdain. The ironic thing was Granger seemed unaware that his team no longer felt any loyalty to the Dimwit. She seemed to think that Potter still inspired loyalty. He agreed he was still revered, but not enough to cause people to go running and telling tales.<p>

Granger was at the house. That had been a shock. Nott still felt less than thrilled about her knowing about Malfoy's involvement in his station. She may not be in the best books of the Weasleys but a reconciliation was still possible with time. And then not? Gryffindor loyalty would come screaming through and Potter would blow a gasket.

Grabbing some parchment, he scribbled a hasty letter and attached it to his owl, whom he unceremoniously threw out the window in his urgency to get the message to Draco. Where the bloody hell was he?

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><p>Hermione felt strange returning to Baker Street but, as she ascended the stairs, she knew she had to warn Malfoy. If Zabini was really spying on him, he had a right to know. That was why she had come back. That was the only reason.<p>

Hermione coughed. Cigarette smoke was hanging in the air. She wrinkled her nose. She'd always hated the smell of it. It reminded her of old pubs that smelt funny. She poked her head around the door of the flat. The living room space was occupied by a big open trunk. Malfoy was leaning over it, searching furiously for something. A cigarette was poised between his fingers which he paused to puff on occasionally. She cleared her throat though it came out as more of a cough from the smoke.

"Where've you been?" He asked, not bothering to stop whatever it was he was doing. Hermione chewed the side of her cheek in annoyance. Where had _she _been?

"Having tea." She answered tartly. "More to the point, where the hell did you go?"

"Investigating." He looked up at her. At her furrowed brow, he rolled his eyes and gestured to the trunk. She took a minute to let it sink in.

"That's her trunk?" She gasped, taking several steps closer. Inside where several folders and stacks of paper work, which proved that Malfoy was right on that count, some overnight clothes and a few toiletries. It didn't look like she'd meant to stay long, Hermione thought sadly. "Where… how did you find this?"

"It's clear we're dealing with a wizard serial killer. As soon as they realised that Chang had left her trunk behind they would have disposed of it accordingly. They couldn't dump it in some random Muggle skip as it had magical details in the files. Should it fall into Muggle hands the security of our world would have crumbled around its ears. So they decided to put it somewhere out of the way that only wizards could find it. In this case, the back alley of the toilets into the Ministry."

"That's… genius." Hermione hated herself for saying it but it had to be said. Malfoy smirked at her obvious discomfort in praising him. "But hang on!" An afterthought went through Hermione. "Why are you rifling through her possessions? This is evidence!"

"This is by the by, now. There's nothing in here of importance. It's what's _not _in here that's very interesting." He took a long drag of his cigarette. Hermione was sick of the smoke and drew her wand, casting a vacuum spell and basically hoovering the air around them until it was clean again. Malfoy raised his eyebrows but had finished his cigarette anyway so said nothing.

"You shouldn't smoke those you know." Hermione scolded. "They could kill you. They're poisonous."

"Yes, thank you, Professor." Malfoy quipped, "I have lived within Muggle culture to know they're not highly recommended. It's why I like them."

Hermione tsked and folded her arms. "Okay, so what is it that's not in here, that's so important?"

Malfoy looked up at her with knitted eyebrows. "Her wand. Where the hell's her wand?" Hermione looked into the trunk. Sure enough, no wand was in sight.

"Maybe she left it at home?" She reasoned feebly.

"Cho Chang? She was part of Dumbledore's Army. Wasn't part of Potter's training to never be unarmed?"

"How do you know- Okay, fine. But that was years ago!"

"Potter made quite the impression with the girl. It would have stuck in her head, even all these years later."

"Well maybe she forgot it while having dinner." Hermione was trying her best to keep up with his reasoning and the speed of his mind. Even for her, this was challenging. "You said yourself, she had wine for dinner, more than one. Maybe she was jittery and forgot. Maybe even dropped it."

"She would have been tipsy at the most, not blind drunk, she would have noticed. No, no, there's something more to this. Something else."

Malfoy got up and started to pace, looking almost entranced in his own state of concentration. Hermione watched him. God, he really did get into this kind of thing! He stopped and turned.

"You're taking the room then, I take it?" There was a tone of smugness laced underneath and Hermione frowned.

"No." She snapped. "No, I'm not."

"What've you come back for then?"

Hermione stood up from the trunk. "I actually came to warn you, though to be honest, I'm regretting it somewhat."

"Oh how noble." Malfoy said, boredom in his drawl. "Go on then, what's the warning?"

Hermione's lips disappeared into a thin line. Even now, it was like they were in school. Gryffindor and Slytherin all over again.

"I think you're being followed."

"Oh yes?" Malfoy was inspecting his fingernails and didn't sound in the least bit interested. "Who's that then?"

"Your 'friend'," She emphasised friend in an almost mocking way, "Blaise Zabini."

Malfoy looked up from his fingernails. He looked like his attention was now fully caught. "Zabini?"

"Yes. He… appeared and asked me questions."

Malfoy stepped forward. "What did he ask you?"

"What you were up to. What I was doing hanging around you. And um…" Hermione mouth had suddenly gone a bit dry. His eyes, so grey they were nearly shining silver, were fixed on her own chocolate brown ones. "Well, I think he's trying to let people that were once in your life know about you."

"He said that?"

"Um… yes."

"Did you tell him anything?"

"No." Hermione breathed out. He was quite close to her now and it emphasised how much taller than her he was. Malfoy held her gaze a second then grinned.

"Excellent!" He strode away quite happily, breaking the moment and leaving Hermione flushed and bewildered.

"E.._Excellent? _But… he's spying on you!"

"Oh I know that!" Malfoy said dismissively, grabbing his heavy black coat and pulling it on, "He's been doing it for nearly three years."

"And you're not worried?" Hermione was feeling incredulous again. She'd come all the way to warn him, believing him to be in danger, and he'd seemed to have not only made peace with it, but find it amusing!

"Why should I be? The very fact Zabini is cornering you of all people means I'm covering my tracks rather well. He tried it with Lovegood once. Five hours he was stuck in that flat, listening to her talk about the Quibbler and her new discovery of the use of bat spawn. Best laugh I've had all year was the sight of him running for the front door the minute she let him go."

"Oh." Hermione felt embarrassment rise within her. "Well, I'm delighted you find it so amusing(!)"

There was a tapping at the window. Malfoy flicked his wand lazily at the window and an owl swooped inside, dropping a letter on the table by the window. Malfoy picked it up and read it.

"Nott's pissed with me. Told me to stop being a tosser and tell him what's going on."

"I wish you would tell us all! Withholding information is not useful right now even if it does make you feel clever!" Hermione snapped. Malfoy looked up from the note and smirked deeply.

"Merlin, it _really _annoys you, doesn't it?"

"What?" Hermione snapped.

"The fact that I can see and understand something you can't."

Hermione spluttered with indignation, trying hard to think of a good comeback but to her horror, she just muttered incoherent words.

"Annoying isn't it? Someone who knows everything and always has an answer." Malfoy clearly knew this was a dig at Hermione herself who flushed an even deeper shade of pink. Malfoy wrapped his scarf around his neck. "Come on."

"What?" Hermione watched him head for the front door.

"Well, I need to think about what could have happened to that wand and you make my mind more alert."

"I've got work in the morning!"

"Dull. Whether you like it or not Granger you're involved in this case now and I know if not tonight you're morals will drive you back to me in the end because you'll want justice for Cho and all the others."

"I don't trust you." Hermione announced. "In fact, I don't know why I ever listened to you in the first place."

"And yet, you Apparate across London just to warn me that I may or may not be under observation." Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "I think that speaks volumes, don't you?"

Malfoy was soon descending the stairs and for the third time that night, Hermione, with a feeling of detest at her own curiosity, followed.


	6. The Wand Entrapment

**I don't know whats come over me, I really don't. I just can't stop writing. (Don't get too used to it by the way - i normally take longer) Thank you so so much for all the gorgeous feedback. So pleased some of you who haven't watched Sherlock before have given it a look. You'll see how the plot really goes then, which is much better than my magical version. A lot have asked questions about Draco and what he's all about. On this topic, it will remain the mystery around the other mysteries and may take a lot longer to solve. It's a case for Hermione at any rate ;) There is a lot of background and depth to him though. I've also decided not to include Moriarty or a character based on Moriarty into this fic. It might be overkill. They've been at war on and off for nearly fifty years and had one pyschopath. Let's give them a break eh?**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own either Sherlock or Harry Potter, otherwise I would not be skint all the time and would be writing this on a top of the range laptop encrusted in diamonds. **

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><p>Hermione knew fully well that London was the city that was never quiet. Even in the night time, there were many people coming and going. Hermione was incredibly conscious of this as she walked to keep up with Malfoy who was much faster than her due to the length of his legs and the quick strides he took. Even amongst a crowd, it would be visible and clear that Hermione Granger was in the company of Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater. She loathed herself for being conscious of it, but she knew should Rita Skeeter ever get such a picture or indeed rumour of an acquaintance, her reputation would be in shreds. She didn't think she could take another article of complete and utter lies. Which was why she had no idea why it was she was still following him on her own free will. She could turn around now and he wouldn't stop her, she knew this, and go home. But she followed. She knew she had to now. Cho was dead, as was Susan and Penelope and Marcus and there was a killer out there. And dislike Draco as she did, he could find who did this and stop them before anyone else died. She would suffer lies and a battered reputation if that was the end result. So, as quickly as she could in her little heels, sensible for work as they were, she tried to keep up with him and remain within ear shot of him.<p>

Malfoy seemed to be hunting for something or somewhere. His eyes were sharp as he looked around the streets of Westminster. Hermione very nearly bumped straight into him when he came to an abrupt halt. Malfoy looked at the restaurant for a second.

"This will do."

He opened the door and, with a nod to the waitress, sat himself at a table. Hermione cautiously followed and sat down slowly. The waitress scuttled over.

"Evening, Mr. Malfoy." She smiled fondly at Malfoy, who gave something of a smile in return. She was middle aged and a little plump but kindly looking. "What would you like this evening?"

"Coffee. Black, no sugar." The waitress scribbled it down on her notepad.

"And your date?"

"I'm not his date!" Hermione snapped in a hurry. The waitress looked taken aback and Hermione flushed with embarrassment. Malfoy smirked.

"I think a coffee for her too. She's a little jittery tonight." Hermione frowned deeply. "How are you, Martha?"

"Oh fine. Back's giving me hell. I'll get you your drinks." With that, she scuttled off.

"I didn't know you were so friendly with Muggles, Malfoy." Hermione knew it sounded spiteful to throw it in his face but couldn't stop herself.

"In London, when you do what I do, its good to have friends in every walk of life." Malfoy was looking slightly over Hermione's shoulder deep in thought. "Besides Martha owes me a favour."

"What's that then?"

"Five years ago, her husband walked out on her, taking his mistress to Spain in the process. I helped out."

"What, did you give her money?"

"No, I introduced him to the woman," Hermione was completely confused, "She hated him. Bane of her life for over a decade. This way he got caught with his trousers down, quite literally, she gets a nice little settlement in the divorce and gets shot of him."

Hermione was still gaping when their coffees arrived. Malfoy seemed to have forgotten about that now and was muttering to himself, about the wand. He seemed obsessed with what had happened to it. Hermione's boundaries burst.

"How did you know?" She demanded. It came out quite loudly and echoed around the café which was deserted except for them two. Hermione cursed herself and then said more lowly. "You knew stuff about me. How?"

"I observe people. Reading them is remarkably easy."

"Well, then how did you know. Tell me."

Malfoy sipped his coffee, looking at her intensely. She suddenly felt overexposed. Putting down his cup, he sat back. "I won't go into your private life."

"Why not?"

"Because you have a hot beverage in front of you and I don't fancy wearing it. I quite like this coat."

"Very well." Hermione couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. She wanted to know how he'd known about her parents and her relationships. But something in Malfoy's face said that he didn't want to get into anything emotional. Not tonight anyway. He needed her for some reason and Hermione knew herself that going in depth about her private life wouldn't gain him any points.

"You live in a magically renovated flat in Camden but you don't enjoy living there. You spend a lot of time in your office, trying to translate that book Dumbledore gave you all those years back in his will. That's not a work activity, definitely not one that requires you to remain within the Ministry, so that indicates a reluctance to go home. Normally one could acquire it to a relationship problem but, as we both know, you're newly single. So that possibly implies that the shabbiness of the apartment is to blame.

"You're connected to the Floo Network in your office. If you lived in a standard Muggle flat, it wouldn't be permanently connected to the office, no matter what your position is. You'd have to take the toilets like everyone else. That means its magically listed. There are only three magical flats for only wizards and witches available right now. That's in Wales, Newcastle or Camden. For obvious geographical reasons, you chose Camden. They haven't been renovated for a long time. Chronic problems with damp, thus explaining your displeasure living there.

"You're well paid at the Ministry. Your clothes are of good quality and made to measure. None of them have been re-hemmed so you make sure you always look pristine and smart for work. You never let your work clothes go shabby. However, your make-up, although carefully applied and minimal is not expensive, mainly high street stuff. Same goes for your hair. You could have it done every month if you wished, money certainly isn't the issue, but you choose not to. It's silky but only from shampoo, no other products and straightened the best you can, but had several curls that have come loose and unattended. This indicates that you place your work above your real day-to-day life. You don't fuss over your appearance more than necessary because it doesn't really matter to you. So, all in all, you hate your home and you haven't changed since Hogwarts."

Hermione sat there, staring at him.

"You got all that… by looking at me?"

"More or less. You're fairly easy to read, Granger." Hermione was feeling too winded to scowl.

"How… how can you… do that?" Hermione was annoyed at her curiosity but she'd always needed to know all the facts. It was what she lived by. Malfoy went to smirk but Hermione put up her finger, a little like a teacher would. "No smart arse quips! Just tell me."

"People see things. They see the clothes that others wear, the odd hair on their clothing or their smell. But they don't observe. You have to look deeper to see who they are and what they've done."

"But you see things that a normal human being couldn't possibly. Even by wizarding standards."

"Everyone is capable of being like this. It's mental conditioning. Like Occulmency. You place your mind into a certain state and it allows you to see things. You've done it."

"I have?"

"Lupin. I thought I was the only one who'd figured it out in Third Year but no… you had too."

"You knew? Then why didn't you shout it around the school?"

"He was a werewolf. I thought if I pissed him off enough, he'd bite me."

"Lupin would have never done such a thing deliberately, even when transformed!" Hermione spat. She could take having the piss ripped out of her but not her friends. Especially her deceased ones.

"You have to remember my experiences with werewolves were quite different." Malfoy replied lowly. Hermione went still. Fenrir Greyback had lived at the Manor for a time during the Second Wizarding War. She didn't want to even imagine being in his company for a prolonged amount of time. "You still pieced things together. Well it's like that for me. People have codes. It's just a matter of deciphering it to get to the heart of them." Malfoy leant forward. "I need to know more about Cho Chang. Tell me about her."

"I didn't speak to her for years."

"People don't change all that much no matter the years; little habits always remain. Now think. You were friends. Think!"

Hermione breathed in and tried. "Um, she was good at Charms. Always had a knack for it. She liked sugary stuff. She didn't like me very much because she thought I fancied Harry," Malfoy scoffed at this, "She was loyal to her friends. She was a little forgetful. She liked to-"

"-Hold on!" Malfoy put up his hand to stop her. "Go back. Say that again."

"Um… she was little forgetful." Hermione saw a loophole in this. "You see! Old habits die hard. She was always looking for her wand in her bag, worrying that she had forgotten it. She must have left it at home."

"…No… no, that's not right. There's something else, something…" He raised his head, his eyebrows arched, "Did she use her wand a lot?"

"All the time. For quite trivial things actually. An alarm clock, opening jars, getting messages out."

"And she needed it for work." He countered. "Did she stop losing it at some point?"

"Well yes. She got tired of misplacing it and she put a little charm on the wand so she could track it if it was-" Hermione stopped dead. Malfoy had heard it. A charm. On the wand. Malfoy and Hermione both stood from the table so sharply both chairs toppled over and ran head long out of the café.

By the time, they got back to the flat, Malfoy was talking a mile a minute.

"Cho Chang had documents. In one of those files will be the parchment that will give the location of her wand!"

"You think she forgot it with the killer?" Hermione gasped out as they flew into the living room and set upon the case.

"She didn't forget it. She planted it!"

"Sorry?"

"Cho Chang may have been forgetful but she was a Ravenclaw. She was smart! She'd read the papers, she knew she was next and so before he led her to the house, she left the wand behind so it could be tracked. If she'd been discreet enough, it will still be with the killer!"

Malfoy and Hermione grabbed the files and hurriedly flipped through them. There were five thick ones and they were full of parchments of receipts, bills and invoices. Hermione riffled desperately through them. She would have packed it, she knew she would. Suddenly she found a piece of parchment with a drawing of a raven in the corner. It was blank except for a title that said, "In case of forgetfulness".

Hermione took a deep breathe and spoke clearly so the paper could 'hear'.

"Tell me where you are." Malfoy stopped searching and bent beside her to look. The paper shook for a moment and then a name appeared. But no sooner had it appeared that it disappeared and another name replaced it. Then another and another. And another. Hermione looked in confusion. "What's going on?"

Malfoy looked up and around as though thinking. "The wand is moving."

"How can a wand move?" Hermione demanded. "It's impossible."

"Exactly. So that must mean the killer is." The paper was still changing names rapidly. "No person can travel that fast. What can travel so quickly?"

Hermione tried to think desperately. Not even a Firebolt 3000 was that fast. If it was Apparition, there would be spaces and stops in the parchment names. Malfoy was whispering.

"Where do witches and wizards go when they cannot get home?" His eyes were wide and realisation slowly dawned on Hermione. There was a screech of break outside and they looked to the window. They could just about make out the top of purple triple decker bus… Hermione looked down. The parchment had stopped changing. Now it had a name of the location. 221B Baker Street.

Malfoy turned and walked to the door. Hermione followed, her heart hammering in her chest. For good measure, she drew out her wand and gripped it tightly. They both opened the door and looked outside.

The Night Bus was sat on the road and a stringy, spotty looking man was stood on the pavement.

"Night Bus for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy?" Stan Shunpike asked. The stringy man looked different from when Hermione remembered. He was haggard looking and thinner.

"You did this? It's you. You're the killer?" Hermione managed.

"People always sound surprised." He smirked, a smile that made Hermione want to take a wash, "Stan Shunpike, puppet to the Death Eaters, not particularly talented. No one suspects the man who was Imperiused. Quite handy really."

Malfoy stepped forward. "Why would we need a Night Bus? I don't recall asking for a lift?"

"Not so much a lift. More of a journey."

"So you can find a nice little place to kill us?" Malfoy asked sweetly.

"If you're gonna be blunt, yeah." Hermione's throat felt like it was about to close up.

"And why would we get on the bus?" Malfoy continued.

"You don't have to. You can ring your mates down at Headquarters and I'll come quietly. Pity that you're not interested in what it was I did though."

"We won't lose anyone else though." Hermione spat. Malfoy took another step forward.

"Why would you seek us out?"

"I thought that was obvious." Stan shrugged nonchalantly. "You two are the only pair who got it in the end." Stan turned around and got back on the bus, fiddling with his ticket dispenser. Ernie was at the wheel. The little old man looked even smaller and older than Hermione remembered previously. She wondered if he even knew where he was. He probably didn't have a clue of what Stan was up to. Malfoy started forward before Hermione grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"Finding out the truth." He replied and tried to duck out of her grasp. She had a strong grip though.

"What!" Hermione practically screeched. "You can't! You heard him Malfoy! He killed them. And he'll kill you! We have to write to Nott and tell him. Send him a Patronus! Anything!"

"If we get the Ministry now, we'll never find out how he did it." Malfoy looked steely eyed and determined.

"You're insane! Crazy! You want to risk your life to find out some facts?"

"Why not? Once upon a time, that's what _you _would have done." And with a sharp tug, he was out of her grip and stepped onto the bus. Stan merely smirked.

Hermione felt like she could scream at the top of her voice. He couldn't do this! It was madness. "Malfoy, get off! Stop it!" Hermione was shaking. Malfoy merely looked at her.

"Go and get help. Get Nott. I'll see you again. Probably." He didn't seem too bothered. The doors slammed shut and, before Hermione could blink, the bus sped off at lightening speed. Hermione chased it hopelessly down the pavement.

"_MALFOY!"_

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><p><em><strong>Hope you enjoyed. Please review. They mean a lot to me.<strong>_


	7. Potion Chess

**Thank you so so much for the lovely alerts and reviews. If you do alert, could you tell me what it was that made you do so, that way I know what I'm doing right. I'm glad so many people think that the merging of the two worlds works and that some are looking at the Sherlock series as a result of this. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock Holmes.**

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><p>Hermione tore up the stairs to the flat and grabbed the piece of parchment containing Nott's previous letter. Scribbling a messy and desperate plea for help, she attached it to the owl, who was still sitting on the windowsill, and threw it out of the window, watching as it soared out of view.<p>

Hermione wanted to cry. Why, _why _did he have to do this? Did he not cared about himself? Or did he just care so much for a result that he was willing to do anything and everything to get it? It could be one of the other. Either way, he was bloody fool! And yet Hermione couldn't deny that the idea of opening the paper tomorrow to see Malfoy's scowling picture looking back at her as the fifth victim made her want to dry heave. She'd seen too many people die in her life; she didn't want yet another class mate lost, former childhood nemesis or not! One thing she knew without doubt: there was too much of a need in her to save innocent people (even if they were a pain in the arse) to just sit back and wait for the Law Enforcement to arrive. Grabbing the parchment with the ever changing location of the wand, which was clearly still on the bus, she ran out of the flat again and practically stood in the road to get a cab to stop. The wizarding world didn't need another martyr but she was too far gone to care.

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><p>Theo was just about to get into bed when his owl began to tap at the window incessantly. Growling, he got back up and opened the window, allowing the animal to soar through and land on his bed. At first, Theo considered not bothering to open it. He was tired and it would probably be some smart arse quip from Draco, but read it nonetheless. To find a panicky letter from Granger, clearly shaking and terrified judging by the messy handwriting, that Malfoy had strolled into the path of the killer and gone for a little ride with him.<p>

Theo leapt to attention, all tiredness forgotten, and scrambled to get re-dressed. He swore viciously to himself while doing so. How could a man who had seemed to mutate into a genius be so bloody stupid! Grabbing his wand, he screamed the spell that caused his Patronus to jump forth. The Leopard sprang forward and seemed to split in at least five different directions out of the window to alert all concerned that there was an emergency. Sending owls was fruitless in raising the alarm when a Patronus was quicker and to the point. Once he was dressed, he threw down the Floo Powder into the fireplace and jumped through to his office.

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><p>Hermione looked desperately at the parchment as the cab took her around Central London. The taxi cab driver seemed disgruntled when she just cried for him to take her around London but did it anyway. The names of the parchment were still changing rapidly and Hermione was close to balling it up and throwing it out the window. How had this happened? She was just having a normal bad day that had fast turned into a race for survival. Hermione looked at the parchment when she realised the names, although still changing, were beginning to slow down. She stared at the parchment as they began to get slower and slower. And suddenly it stopped and the name was on the parchment.<p>

She gave the name to the cab driver and tried to stop her heart beat from vibrating in her ears.

The college was disserted, due to the time of night, but the lights were on inside. Hermione handed over the money to the cabbie and stood outside. The Night Bus was parked outside though the cab driver couldn't see it as it could only be seen by those who sought it out. She stood alone on the pavement for a moment, looking up at the building before dashing inside.

The corridors seemed endless and her calls unheard. The helplessness was a terrible feeling and Hermione ran down the halls of light and darkness all the faster. Just when she was about to scream in frustration did she hear a faint voice. The door was open a crack and she squatted down and peered through.

Malfoy and Stan Shunpike were sat face to face. Malfoy looked fairly relaxed in his chair. The two men looked so different. Malfoy's perfect complexion and aristocratic features clashed harshly with Shunpike's spotty, greasy complexion and lank hair.

"So what is this game that we're going to play today, then?" Malfoy's tone was so relaxed, so arrogantly nonchalant, Hermione wondered for the twentieth time that night if he had lost all touch with reality. As far as Malfoy knew, there was no audience to perform for yet he sounded calm. Shunpike smirked.

"You've read the papers, no doubt, you understand the outcome. What you don't get is the game." Shunpike reached into his overcoat and placed a vial of potion on the table.

"So I suppose I'm just meant to swallow that and go to my eternal slumber?"

"Yeah. Or you could take this one." Shunpike reached into his other pocket and drew out another vial. The two potions looked identical in every sense. Hermione finally understood. Malfoy's eyes widened in understanding and… was it intrigue? "Get it now, don't you? Two vials, one go; it's very simple. One is poisonous, one is benign. This should be right up your alley. Heard you were interested in Wizard Chess."

"So you basically hold a wand to the throat of these people and they drink the poison?"

"What would you prefer? Avada Kadavra and not the slightest chance of survival or a gamble that, if played right, could result in you keeping your life?"

"They could both be poisoned."

"They're not. If they were, I wouldn't be taking the other." Malfoy looked almost impressed. Hermione felt the bile rise in her throat.

"Why would you do that?" Malfoy enquired though the look on his face gave away, to Hermione at least, that he may already know. The motives were utterly lost on Hermione however.

"It gives the game an angle. Plus it's a good way of convincing the other 'player' that the game is genuinely fair."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "This is quite the turn around isn't it, Stan. You were genuinely Imperiused, I know that much. Why do this?"

"Is that really relevant?" Shunpike asked in a bored tone.

"Pretty relevant I would say." Malfoy reasoned. "I see Azkaban really did screw you up?"

"You reckon?"

Malfoy sat back and took a look at Stan. "Time with the Dementors is a terrible thing. Drives you to despair and insanity when all you can ever see is darkness. Must have been even more galling when you knew that you were an innocent and just a propaganda stunt for the Ministry. A bitterness festered within you even before the Imperius took effect. The knowledge that you killed people under the orders of the most psychopathic wizard ever must have been quite difficult to get over. You were acquitted accordingly and suspected to go back to your normal life. Not that easy though, is it? The anger bubbled up and your resentment at the people who had managed to put it behind them grew. But that doesn't explain your desire to take the potion yourself… Oh." Malfoy folded his arms in smug understanding. "It's not just mentally affected you has it? Your health is failing. Weak lungs. You have a raspy breathing pattern, subliminal with a worn and damaged wind pipe. The Dementors have also left you with lungs like paper bags. It's remarkable you can still stand upright. You have no family, no friends, barring poor old Ernie, and he's not long for this world, I can tell you. So if you were to die, it wouldn't particularly matter. You've not a thing to lose. You know you'll die sooner or later, either from suffocation or from your little concoction. You've become determined to restore balance and get a certain sense of justice for what the Ministry did to you and what better way than to give the public a state of panic once again?"

Shunpike was fairly expressionless throughout Malfoy's analysis but smirked at the end.

"You've been practising your observational skills, I see. You're good, I'll give you that."

"I've been told." Malfoy conceded.

"They just expect you to forget. Up here." Shunpike pointed to his head. "But it's there; living like a tumour in my memory."

"Why those people though? What did they do to you?"

"Like you said, everyone seems to have moved on. I hated them for it. They were all so…happy." Shunpike spat the word out like it tasted disgusting.

"Bitterness is a destructive emotion."

"I've already been destroyed. May as well share out the pain."

"Everyone and their dog has pain. Doesn't mean you can go around killing people just because you don't want to be the only one who suffers."

"No ones stopped me so far."

"We'll see."

Hermione watched from the door in wonder. She believed Malfoy's words and for a very small, very brief moment, she felt an iota of sympathy for the lanky spotty man. It died quickly though.

"Time to play, Malfoy. You've diced with death often enough, this should be nothing for you."

Malfoy looked at the vials and picked up one and inspected it. "I'll take this one." Shunpike rose his eyebrows.

"Interesting."

"Shall we?" Malfoy picked up the vial. Hermione burst through the door.

"Malfoy, no!" Her wand was drawn in Shunpike's direction. Neither Stan nor Malfoy even flinched at her appearance.

"About time you came out. I was wondering what was taking so long." Malfoy drawled, his eyes never leaving Shunpike. Hermione gripped her wand tighter. "Put your wand down Granger. It won't make any difference."

"I can't let you take that. I won't let _him," _she snarled in Shunpike's direction, "kill someone else."

"It's this," he held up the vial, "or the wand. Like he says, at least I have a chance this way." He uncorked the vial. Shunpike followed suit. "To good health." And before Hermione could scream "Don't!", the contents went down his throat. The vials were empty. Hermione's chest was tightening and her eyes brimmed. She couldn't believe she would have to witness his death. Suddenly, there was a terrible choking sound. She looked to Malfoy… who was sitting perfectly still and without so much as a cough coming from him. She looked to Stan. He was convulsing and spluttering. Her eyes widened.

"The gamble paid off?" She said this in complete disbelief.

"H-h-how?" Stan spluttered as he began to froth at the mouth.

"I was a potions expert at nineteen. I know poison when I see it." He leant forward. "You wanted to play the game. This is what it feels like to lose."

Shunpike continued to convulse and moan before finally going completely still, his eyes empty of anything. Hermione breathed shakily at watching someone die in agony before turning slowly to Malfoy. He stood slowly and straightened his coat.

Just then there were white lights everywhere as Aurors began to Apparate into the room. Theo Nott was the first to appear and take in the scene before him. Some Aurors Hermione didn't recognise stepped forward.

"What happened here then?" A burly man asked, prodding Shunpike with his wand.

"He's the killer." Hermione breathed. "His gamble didn't work this time."

"It's a long story, Nott, I'll tell you when we're outside."

Hermione looked at Nott and then Malfoy and then did the one thing she had been desperate to do for the past few hours: she started beating him in the chest with her fists.

"How-can-you-be-so-stupid!" Every gap led to another pound against his chest. Nott and the Aurors looked at a loss at what to do at watching the petite lady trying to effectively knock over, or at least hurt, the tall blond man, who was looking quite bemused. Hermione let out a growl like a dog before trying to aim for his face. Malfoy, clearly wary of having another slap like Third Year, caught her raised wrist in his hand.

"It's done. Justice is done." He said it with conviction and a firmness that made Hermione want to slap him harder but she wasn't at means to do so. Hermione's was breathing heavily and suddenly went limp. Malfoy relaxed his grip as she felt the energy leave her.

"I only wanted a flat." She murmured. She didn't see Malfoy's amused smirk.

* * *

><p>Hermione had a very, very strong cup of coffee and a sit down as the Aurors asked her questions. She answered the best she could before wandering out of sight. She knew Harry and Ron were inside and she didn't want another run in. She was so drained, so exhausted, that she could see herself saying something that would haunt her for years and she wouldn't even care tonight.<p>

Malfoy gave his statement to Nott and then wandered over, clearly having no intention to speak to the boys either. She knew that the fact they were both found as the intended victims would raise questions and she would no doubt get an owl in the morning, demanding answers.

"Calmed down?" He asked. Hermione turned her head and gave him a look that promised violence.

"Why did you do it? You could have been killed!"

"No, I wouldn't have." Malfoy dismissed.

"Yes, you would! If you hadn't been an expect on potions-"

"I still would have lived. Shunpike didn't have a wand of his own and didn't know Cho Chang's was on that bus."

"Then what did he threaten them with?"

"A Weasley's Wizard Wheeze Wand." He answered. Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "I confiscated enough of them in school to recognise one. If I'd chosen the wand, the best I would have got would have been watching it change into a rubber chicken."

Hermione's mouth hung open. "So… you took that vial and drank that potion… just to prove a point?"

"If you play the game enough, you need to be prepared to lose." He shrugged. He looked at her. "You were good, you know. Bit unnecessary to call all of this lot," he gestured to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement team that had cornered off the college, "but still… very good."

Malfoy and Hermione had been walking together while they talked and, when Malfoy stopped dead, Hermione looked to see what had stopped him. Blaise Zabini was stood before them.

"Bravo. Risky methods as always but very inspiring." Blaise commented. Hermione looked to Malfoy. His jaw was locked and he looked reminiscent of the snarl he would give Harry in school.

"Poking your nose in again, then?" He snapped. Hermione looked from one to other. Relations between these two could certainly not be listed as friends anymore.

"I only try and see you're not getting yourself into unnecessary trouble." Blaise cast a sceptical eye at the commotion behind them. "A futile battle, it's proving to be."

"Well, best save yourself the bother and leave me to it then." Malfoy snapped.

"Malfoy, do get over it! It's done and, if I recall, it's actually stopped your arse landing in Azkaban a few times."

"We'd made a deal."

"And I have apologised once. I'm not doing it again." Blaise replied. "Just because we went through the same process, doesn't mean we were duty bound to one another. You may like using your skills to be a maverick but I prefer a quieter, more organised life." Hermione had to speak up.

"Process? Skills? You two are the same?"

"Same mental ability, yes." Blaise answered, his eyes still on Malfoy. "Except I possess common sense."

"So who are you exactly?" Hermione asked.

"I work for the Ministry."

"In which he may as well be the Minister." Malfoy drawled. Blaise simply raised his eyebrows. "Pleasure to see you as always Blaise, but it has been a traumatic day." Malfoy sauntered off without the slightest hint of so much as a shudder at the day he'd had. Hermione, however, stayed where she was.

"You're not trying to hurt him?"

"Would be no point. And that's not what the people want. On the contrary. They want him safe. Goodnight, Miss. Granger." And with a turn of the heel, he Disapparated.

Hermione walked down the road to where Malfoy was stood. They stood side by side and in silence for a moment.

"Side along Apparition?" Malfoy inquired.

"We've been up all night. We're too tired. We'll splinch."

"Taxi it is then."

Hermione couldn't remember the cab ride home. She didn't remember to ask the driver to take her to her own flat. She didn't remember to be angry when she ended up back at Baker Street.

Luna was in their flat, in a big fluffy purple dressing gown, making tea. Malfoy didn't seem bothered by this.

"Did you catch the killer?" She asked.

"Yep. Stan Shunpike. He's dead now." Malfoy announced. He let his overcoat drop onto the coach. Hermione sank into the chair at the table. The sun was peaking through the window. The sky was dusky pink. Luna set out some coffee and toast for both Hermione and Malfoy. Luna asked who the last victim had been but Malfoy said he wasn't sure. Hermione looked at him and he softly shook his head. Cho Chang was a fellow Ravenclaw. Malfoy clearly didn't do sympathetic explanations very well. Hermione didn't argue.

"I have to be in work in two hours." She groaned. Her whole body shook with tiredness.

"Nott said he'd vouch for a day off. Mental exhaustion. They'd only send you straight back home." Hermione sagged with relief. Luna sipped her cup of coffee.

"Are you taking the room, Hermione?"

Hermione stopped stirring her coffee and looked up. "Ummm…"

"She'll sleep here today. Then she'll decide." Malfoy spoke up, not looking up from the paper. Luna nodded again.

"I better get a start on work." She smiled airily. "I've got an article to write about the best ways to repel vampires using friendly unharmful methods such as the use of rosemary and Satsumas." Luna skipped off downstairs. Hermione found herself unable to contain a giggle. She then looked at Malfoy.

"Go to bed." He nodded his head in the direction of the room she would occupy should she choose to. Hermione shook her head then let out a huge yawn. Oh, what was the use? Sluggishly, she got up and made her way to the room, making a point to not look at Malfoy while doing so. She'd be damned if she let him think he'd won.

Hermione was shocked at the room. It had a double bed, was spacious and lots and lots of empty shelves. She liked shelves. She could put lots of books on them, she thought longingly. There was also natural light straining through into the room.

"You're wavering." Malfoy announced. He was stood in the doorway.

"I didn't give you invitation to come in." She snapped. "And I'm not wavering!"

"Surely not even you are so stubborn as to let me stop you taking this place?"

"One night in your company and I'm close to collapse!"

"And you loved it." Malfoy smirked. Hermione's nostrils flared.

"I beg your pardon?" She asked through gritted teeth.

"You could have left at any time tonight, gone home, eaten a meal-for-one and played with your cat, but no, you stayed. You ran across town to alert me of a supposed threat and racked up a thirty quid taxi bill trying to find me when I was on the Night Bus. Your posture was poker straight and breathing was even when you watched us behind the door. That hardly strikes me as the behaviour of a woman who was dragged into something against her will."

"I just want a quiet life."

"You've had one and it doesn't quite fit, I'm afraid." Malfoy shrugged. "But hey, if it means that much to you, then leave. And I'll never taint that pretty little routine of yours again."

Hermione looked at him for a hard moment and then dumped her wand and bag on the bed.

"Since when have I let you stop me doing anything?"

Malfoy's mouth twitched into a sort of half smile and turned away from her. Hermione closed the door, leaning her head against it.

She shrugged off her suit jacket. One night she'd stay, as she was too tired to function right now, and then she'd decide. Crawling under the comforter, her last thought was how much comfier it was to her other bed before she was dead to the world and in a dreamless sleep.


	8. Anonymity and Adjusting

**Thank you so much for all the lovely alerts and feedback. Aren't you a lovely bunch? To answer questions, I think this will be fairly long as it follows the Sherlock series events and I've only just covered the first episode. If the feedback I get is good, I'll keep going. This chapter is mainly a little interval from the action and danger and is just about Hermione settling into her new life. Hope you enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock.**

* * *

><p>Hermione fought the truth for as long as she could. She wasn't really one for denial and knew in her heart what it was she was doing but that didn't make avoiding the issue any less tempting. She slept like a woman dead to the world for twelve hours before rousing. She felt more refreshed and didn't feel a sense of dread wash over her when she opened her eyes like she did in the old flat. That was until it hit her like a dead weight that she was in Malfoy's flat (or Luna's) and had given into his persuasion. She was cross with herself, but still didn't leave.<p>

She tried to wipe the smug look off Malfoy's face by announcing she was, in fact, staying a few days to visit Luna and give Crookshanks some freedom. There was an element of truth to this as she did want to catch up with Luna, who she'd been rather neglectful in keeping in contact with after Ron moved in with her, and also Crookshanks seemed to hate her flat as much as she did and had been looking even more grumpy than the time he'd been trying to kill Scabbers aka Peter Pettigrew with little success. She brought an over night bag with some clothes and toiletries but very little else. Malfoy continued to smirk to himself though much to Hermione's great irritation.

Hermione went back to work and was soon bombarded with questions from her co-workers about what had happened that night. Hermione answered the best she could, trying to skirt around what she was doing with Malfoy in the first place, before finally growing tired of the questions and snapping at yet another over-interested temp that it was, quite frankly, a little inappropriate to ask such probing questions after such a trauma. No-one dared bring it up again. They knew when Hermione Granger raised her voice that you were to take cover or woe betide the consequences. She did, however, receive an owl from Harry (she'd assumed that he'd taken it upon himself to ask as Ron would have been brutally blunt, as always). Harry was diplomatic in his letter, inquiring as to whether she'd been hurt, or whether there was anything at all she needed, but the question as to what on Earth she was doing in the company of Malfoy was what she could gather was his top priority to find out about. She got a fresh piece of parchment out and went to write a reply but couldn't think of a plausible excuse. She tried her best but, in the end, abandoned writing all together and tossed it away. A small, more vindictive part of her thought maybe this would be a small taste to Harry of how it felt to be cut out of what was going on.

She spent a lot of time downstairs in Luna's flat and found herself catching up on all the life events in Luna's life that she'd not been around to see. Apparently, the royalties of the Harry Potter interview had made her a small fortune, even after they'd sold it to the Daily Prophet, and after her father had died she had decided to move out of the rook shaped house in order to move forward with life. The house of flats had appealed to Luna's love of all things different and she'd refused to redecorate due to the rustic charm she felt it possessed. As to her relationship with Malfoy, she remained fairly allusive. She didn't seem to know much about his life either. Crookshanks found the change of scenery very pleasing but to her utter horror he seemed to have developed a fondness for Malfoy. Often she would come back upstairs to find Crookshanks lazily cleaning his fur at Malfoy's feet as he read or was thinking. She would snatch him up and take him back to her room without looking at Malfoy. Crookshanks always seemed irritable with her afterwards.

She started getting more and more essentials in her room yet always insisting she lived in her flat. It was a month later when she finally admitted defeat to Luna, Malfoy and herself and moved her boxes in the flat. She then did the one thing that was testament to her plans to stay: she moved Bellatrix's wand. It went in the drawer of her side table and went to work filling the empty shelves with her beloved books that had been packed in boxes long enough.

Living with Malfoy was… odd. It wasn't as horrific as she'd feared but it wasn't a walk amongst the tulips either. She understood now why he was deemed a strange person to live with. Malfoy had effectively turned the kitchen into a lab with cauldrons with various concoctions bubbling and test tubes on the kitchen table. He also seemed immersed in his work, whether it be brewing potions or reading books that looked older and dustier than anything Hermione had ever found in the library during her Hogwarts days. During these days, he seemed to be completely unaware of anything else. She had ventured out to make herself a cup of tea (a little reluctantly due to her nervousness of being in the kitchen with the bubbling cauldrons and being in Malfoy's company for a prolonged period). He had not so much as look up from his work, didn't speak a word and seemed completely unaware that Hermione was there at all. Hermione had deliberately banged the cups on the counter to rouse his attention, yet nothing. She soon found out that she preferred this. When he did acknowledge her, it was to make some sarcastic quip. She'd not been there a week before she had snapped and thrown a cup at his head, which he only just ducked out of the way of. To her great irritation, he seemed to thrive on it.

She also found out quickly enough that he was also extremely loud. She'd been woken by numerous bubbling sounds and a few loud bangs coming from the kitchen (he was a bit of an insomniac, it seemed).

She spent a lot of time with Luna in Luna's kitchen in order to calm down a little. Luna allowed Hermione to have a furious rant whenever she was frustrated and waited until she was more placid before giving her input. She seemed to think that letting Malfoy anger Hermione was a little fruitless. Best to be neutral and ignore him the best she could.

Living in a confined space with Malfoy also left Hermione painfully aware of her appearance. As much as she hated his arrogance and indifference to her presence at times, she couldn't deny what was glaringly obvious: Malfoy was a very handsome man indeed. She noticed little things about him now that she had the time to look. He never had stubble; he was always freshly shaven and his porcelain skin look soft to touch. His hands was sculptured well. Pianist hands, they seemed to be. Long, tapered fingers and neat finger nails. He also never wore casual clothing. Never had she strolled out to see him in jeans and t-shirt. He may not wear robes all the time now and had ventured into Muggle attire but it seemed the least Malfoy could downsize to wear shirts and slacks. Always in black and white too, with the odd introduction of navy blue shirts from time to time. This was something of a wake-up to Hermione that she in comparison looked decidedly scruffy stood beside him. She wore jeans and long-sleeved tops on her days off and her hair was normally up in a ponytail. She was always freshly washed and laundered but plain nonetheless.

Hermione knew that people would find out that she was living with Malfoy eventually but that didn't mean she was in a hurry to shout it out in the Atrium. She didn't think she could cope right this very moment with becoming a social pariah so soon after the humiliation of splitting with Ron. She knew she was doing nothing wrong but the gossips would think otherwise. And the papers… she could see it now. _**War Hero in passionate dinner time romps with former Death Eater! **_She'd had enough hate mail from the Victor Krum incident and one or two from some weirdoes when she and Ron split. When it came to her life, other people were the problem. So she said nothing at all and buried herself in the files for the rights of Centaurs.

Her plans were fraught however when she walked home and crossed paths with Malfoy on the doorstep. They didn't say much as he was practically down the road before she could say anything. She stared after him, wondering what it was he was up to this time before going to turn into the doorway. It was then she spotted her. Rita Skeeter was across the road, staring with her mouth hanging open in an entirely undignified fashion. Hermione froze. She'd no doubt just seen Malfoy coming out of the house she was about to go into. Skeeter looked like she was gonna collapse before Apparating away. No doubt to write the front page spread. Hermione buried her head in her hands. _Not like this, please no, not like this! _

Hermione did all she could to take her mind off of the disaster. She went over her Runes, read a Muggle chick flick and cast a cleaning spell on Crookshanks, much to the latter's fury, yet all the while she was feeling sick. Tomorrow was going to be hellish to the extreme.

The next morning, she awoke and scampered out to the breakfast table where Malfoy was reading the Prophet. Without so much as a 'Good Morning', she snatched the paper out of his grasp and furiously turned the pages, searching. There was an article about elections within the Ministry, of some witch actress getting married to a Muggle and whether or not he was aware of her true identity yet and some drivel about the decreasing standards of the Floo Network. Not a word about her or Malfoy, separately or together. She must have pulled an amusing face in her shocked state as when she looked up Malfoy didn't seem perturbed by the fact she had probably given him grievous paper cuts and instead looked interested at her eagerness, the smirk still on his face.

"I didn't know you were so keen to read the gossip sections, Granger."

"I thought- I'd been worried… never mind." She shakily sat down.

"Well, you must have been worried. To come storming out in that little ensemble." Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at herself. She let out a shriek. She'd been warm last night so had worn her negligee. It was silk, violet and very very short. It left very little to the imagination. Leaping from her chair, she scampered back into her room to change, the sound of Malfoy's sniggering following her.

Burning in the cheeks, Hermione got dressed in her most sensible suit and made a quick getaway to work. Once her cheeks had turned back to a more palatable colour, she sighed with relief. Well, at least she had one more day of peace at the very least.

The next day, she left her room again (this time in the baggiest joggers and top she could find) and caught hold of the paper. Still nothing. Absolutely nothing. Ok, now this was weird. Rita Skeeter loved to write about her whether they be true stories or not.

By the third day, she knew something was wrong. Knocking on the door of the bathroom, she called out.

"Malfoy! Malfoy, I need to talk to you!"

There was a rustle and the door opened. Hermione immediately regretted not having the patience to wait until he was done. He was dripping wet from his shower and only wore a dressing gown. The front gave away his shoulders and the top half of his chest. His hair was swept back from his face, with beads of water running down his face. Hermione's mouth suddenly felt like sandpaper.

"Yes?"

"What?" Hermione had completely lost her train of thought.

Malfoy's knowing smirk snapped her out of her daydream, which in itself had made her cheeks pink.

"It's… um… well, Rita Skeeter saw us together three days ago and, well, there's been no stories printed about it?"

Malfoy smirked again. "I thought you didn't care about the tabloids?"

"I don't!" She snapped irritably. "But normally she just likes to make up stories to cause trouble!"

"You don't have to worry about Skeeter. We have an agreement."

"An agreement?" Hermione asked. "What kind? Have you paid her off?"

"Oh no, that will only get you so far. No, I have some dirt on her."

"Dirt?" Hermione was now paying complete attention.

"Don't you think it's a little weird how she's the Editor-In-Chief after all the crappy stories she wrote? Well, I found out about her little animagi trick, as did you and also proof that she had used unreliable sources and practically made up half the stories she'd ever written."

"But I knew that and she's still reporting on me."

"Yes, well, you missed a trick, Granger. You had it so she could write for a whole year. After that she could carry on as normal. I saw to it that she could never report a story that involves me ever again. My name is never to come up in print, not even in the society section, or I'll be owling that little nugget of information to the Ministry. Now if she was to report a story about us two, it would break the deal. Don't you see?" He drawled, "Living with me is the closest thing to anonymity you could ever hope for." And on that note, he turned around and shut the bathroom door.

Hermione was in a good mood for days after this. Freedom from Rita Skeeter's quill - oh what a wonderful thought! Everything seemed brighter. She was even more tolerable of Malfoy as a result. She hadn't shouted at him for days and had even chuckled at a few of his quips. He could be quite funny when he wasn't being cocky. The peace didn't last however.

Hermione had been reading when she'd heard a tiny groan. She'd looked up from her book and listened. Silence. She must have imagined it, she shrugged and went back to her book. A few moments later there was another one. Then another. She got up and grabbed her wand. Tip-toeing out into the flat, she lit a _Lumos _spell. The flat was empty and dark. Yet she heard another cry. It sounded… ecstatic? She furrowed her eyes and went to Malfoy's room. Pressing her ear to the door, she heard a moan again. And the creaking of a bed.

Flushing scarlet and repressing a groan that was by no means ecstatic, she scampered back to her room. It was a long difficult night. The noise seemed to get louder and, by the time Malfoy's companion was shouting how good he was, she cast a strong silence spell on her room. Some things she didn't want to know. She could have at least been informed he was bringing company home. She could have stayed downstairs with Luna then. Was this what people did when they were single? Have one night stands? She'd never been overly keen on sex. She'd lost her virginity with Ron and had never been with anyone else. She was the first to announce that she wasn't the most clued up on the subject. She'd read books, as was her way of things, and been amazed that you could do so much. When she'd tried to initiate something a bit different however, Ron had been freaked out. He'd muttered something about not thinking Hermione was 'that kind of girl'. Hermione still felt humiliation flood her as she remembered those words. She'd known that Ron liked to take the lead in those kind of things but she'd thought he'd be delighted. She'd got rid of the books and never tried anything like that ever again. Their sex life had more or less evaporated by the time she decided to end it.

She woke the next morning, feeling frumpy and a little dejected. When she went out to breakfast, however, there was no sign of any other woman. She was aware of a faint smell of cheap perfume she didn't recognize but that was all that remained of the mystery woman. Just Malfoy at the table. He was looking no different. Just reading the paper with a look of concentration. The silencing charm must have masked the front door closing. Hermione wondered what it must be like to be able to distance yourself emotionally from sex. The idea of having sex with someone she wasn't anything but completely in love with was a cold feeling.

"You're quiet." He commented, reading an article Hermione couldn't see.

"You weren't."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing!" Hermione stirred her coffee idly. She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look up. She was certain she was blushing and she didn't have the patience for that damned smirk this morning. At that moment, there was a tapping on the window. A ivory owl was sat on the window sill. Hermione walked over and open the window. The owl swooped through the window and landed beside Malfoy. Malfoy unattached a letter attached to its leg and idle gave the owl some of his toast, which it attacked happily.

Malfoy read the letter and his eyes glittered. Hermione stood at the window and waited. There was a look in his eyes. Anticipation. Hermione recognised it from when Ron used to learn that the Sunday Dinner Mrs. Weasley had prepared was ready.

"What is it?"

"A case. A new case." Hermione was torn between groaning and jumping to attention.

"Where?"

"Gringotts."

"Gringotts?" Hermione was now more intrigued than ever. No one had ever successfully broken into Gringotts… well except Ron, Harry and her and they hadn't exactly been subtle in doing so. They'd high jacked a bloody dragon for Merlin's sake! Malfoy had his coat on immediately.

"Come on!"

"What?"

"Oh let's not do this again, Granger, it wastes time and energy!"

"You want to come with you… again?" Hermione felt colour fill her cheeks.

"A second opinion and a capable mind is always useful. You proved that a month ago!" Malfoy sauntered over, hands in his pockets. "Now are you coming or not?"

Hermione knew she shouldn't. It may be a Saturday and she had absolutely no plans but still…

"Give me five minutes." And she ran to her room to get changed.

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><p><strong>AN - I may take a little longer to update for a while as I have several university projects to sort out and finish and I need to prioritize. Leave reviews to brighten my days :) **


	9. Coded Vaults

**Hello, I'm so sorry for my tardiness in writing as of late. I've been enjoying something of a holiday in terms of writing fan fiction. Well, it hasn't really been a holiday as I've had a pile of University coursework to tend to and I really needed to prioritize. Plus I've been looking for a job. Anyway, I hope you can forgive me with this new chapter. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock Holmes or Harry Potter. **

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><p>Walking into Gringotts, Hermione looked all around at the surroundings. It was with a little embarrassment that she walked alongside Malfoy. Not simply due to the fact that someone may just see them both but also due to the fact that she had helped to destroy the very building by joyriding a dragon out of the ceiling. They'd repaired the place nicely, she noted. State of the art podiums for the goblins to do their work and a brand new glass ceiling. She hoped quietly that they had in fact not replaced the dragon underground but, as Head of Magical Creature, she knew better. She had fought the notion but the goblins had prevailed.<p>

Malfoy walked to the front desk where an elderly looking goblin with severe horn-rimmed glasses and what looked like an attempt at a beard, though his hair was very thin, a bit like cotton wool. He looked up from the book he was writing in.

"Draco Malfoy." It was all Malfoy said as though it was enough. It clearly was. The goblin put down his quill and turned to his helped to his right and whispered something to him. The goblin nodded and scurried off. The elderly elf turned to Malfoy once more.

"He'll be with you in a moment. He's just in a meeting." The goblin gestured to a seating area in the far corner. It was then that his eyes fell on Hermione. The narrowing of his eyes at the sight of her left her in no doubt that the little goblin had not forgotten her. It didn't matter whether it was for a worthwhile cause, when it came to damaged property, goblins held a grudge!

Following Malfoy to the seating, Hermione lowered herself on the comfy sofa. Malfoy seemed pre-occupied with inspecting his fingernails.

"You weren't very detailed on the way here. What are we here to do?"

"The letter wasn't very detailed. Simply that there had been a break-in and that my assistance was required. For a worthwhile sum, of course."

"I thought you weren't swayed by money?"

"I'm not but the very fact Gringotts is willing to pay me to snoop about their vaults is very interesting. And I do love having my interest piqued."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Malfoy seemed to have a selection process for what crimes warranted his attention and was very quick to dismiss something as too dull. If a case was straight forward (for him at least) he seemed exasperated. It seemed that even in murders, Malfoy had a shallow streak!

An approaching figure snapped Hermione out of her musings. Malfoy stood so Hermione followed but practically recoiled when she saw who she was standing to address. A thin man with a pinched face and an upturned nose strode towards them, with an air of arrogance and conceit that rivalled even a teenage Malfoy (who was still arrogant, but a bit more self-assured with it, like the fact he knew he was brilliant was good enough and there was no need for others to know).

"Malfoy, good to see you're punctual." Zacharias Smith greeted, earning a curt nod from Malfoy, before Smith caught sight of Hermione, who's head was tilted up higher than usual. "Granger?"

"Smith." She practically spat. Zacharias Smith's eyes darted from Hermione to Malfoy, with a look of complete amazement and a hint of mockery. "Since when do you hang around with the Golden Girl?"

"You said in your letter you needed assistance without a fuss. Surely two intelligent opinions is better than involving the Law Enforcement squad. Also she's guaranteed to be discreet." A quirk of a smile that made itself at home on Malfoy's features. Hermione scowled even harder.

"She's a Head figure in the Ministry!" Zacharias barked, sounding as nasal as he ever did. "I want this kept quiet Malfoy!"

"I bet you do. First human head of protection within Gringotts in centuries and within the first two months, someone slips through the net? Not a great end of month, is it?" Malfoy then smiled sweetly, though the malicious intent was there. He knew Smith was in deep need of assistance and had no qualms turning on his heel if Smith questioned him further. It was obvious that while he was willing to look deeper, Smith didn't count Malfoy as a loyal friend or even a loyal acquaintance.

"Just follow me," he snapped. Malfoy fell into step behind him. Hermione followed.

"I didn't know you and Zacharias were… acquainted."

"Only when he wants something." Malfoy murmured quietly. "Which is most of the time."

The journey into the vaults was oddly calming. It felt quite nice to ride the cart into the deep depths of the darkened vault without being disguised as a crazed psychopath. The goblin who navigated the cart kept giving her sheepish looks as though she would Imperius him at any second. After several seconds, the cart screeched to a halt and the goblin got out. Zacharias looked down at the goblin.

"You won't be required to stay. I can take it from here." There was a hint of command in his voice as though he expected the goblin to obey without question. The goblin merely looked at him.

"I think I shall stay to here what the wizard has to say."

"That is not necessary." Zacharias snapped. "I have this under-"

"If you did have it under control, there wouldn't have been an intruder last night."

Zacharias was going red in the face when Malfoy stepped in.

"A goblin would be useful. I need to know every possible way into this place." Malfoy didn't look at either Zacharias or the goblin at this point. He was busy scrutinising the area. The goblin smiled in victory. Zacharias was clearly as unpopular here as he had been at Hogwarts. She had not forgotten his cowardice during the Battle of Hogwarts. "Lead us to it, then."

The goblin started forward with Malfoy close behind. Hermione went before Zacharias who seemed to be in outraged shock at the prospect of being talked down to in favour of a goblin.

"Your name?" Malfoy inquired.

"Ragnok." He answered simply. "Employee of Gringotts for over twenty years." His eyes once more flicked back to Hermione. Zacharias came scurrying back into step with them.

"Nothing has been stolen." He sounded almost defensive in saying this. "The vault was not even opened."

"Then why are we here?" Hermione inquired.

"Because it wasn't what they took, it's what they left behind." Ragnok said simply.

The vault came into sight before them and Hermione saw what they meant. Malfoy and her stood before the door, looking in bemusement. Written on the wall, in an enchantment that looked like the writing was made out of fire as it flickered and had heat that radiated from it, were inscriptions. Hermione recognised the symbols and markings as Ancient Runes but she could not translate it. The runes were not only ancient but out of circulation. It was like reading medieval text and, even with her substantial training, she could not decipher it.

"When did this happen?"

"Last night." Zacharias replied. "The alarm for an intruder was raised but by the time we got down here, they were gone and the message remained."

"No possibility of an inside job?" Malfoy inquired.

"Every employee, human and otherwise, has been fed Veritiserum. Nothing has come out." Ragnok dismissed.

"How many ways into this place?" Malfoy asked, stepping away from the door and began pacing the area around, as though hunting for clues.

"Only the cart." Hermione answered for the goblin and Smith. "And there are substantial checks to make sure you are who you claim." Ragnok snorted.

"The witch is correct, as she has learnt through her own little escapades." Hermione gritted her teeth and Malfoy's smirk made a reappearance.

"We need to find out who the message was for and what it says." Zacharias said, in a voice dripping with self-importance. "But more importantly, we need to find out where the hole in our security lies."

"Who did this vault belong to." Malfoy asked Ragnok, as though Zacharias hadn't spoken at all.

"Nobody. It is a new vault. Nothing is inside. The Curse Breakers were scheduled to put new defences in place for when it is occupied."

"I need the list of Curse Breakers on duty last night."

"Very well." Ragnok began to make his way back to the cart with Zacharias, Hermione and Malfoy close behind.

The atmosphere was strained back up in the main building. Malfoy seemed to have dismissed Zacharias as useless and had decided to focus his attention on getting information out of Ragnok instead. Ragnok seemed to have taken to Malfoy due to his obvious disdain for Zacharias and it almost went some way towards covering his distrust of Hermione herself. Almost.

Hermione was looking around when out of chance she saw a Curse Breaker approaching. A Curse Breaker she knew all too well. Hermione quickly ducked behind a pillar before Bill Weasley could see her. She was lucky that his eyes, which were fixed into a mutinous glare, were set on Zacharias and Malfoy. Hermione watched from her hiding place as he came closer. She held back a sigh. She was very fond of Bill and him and Fleur had continued to send her Christmas and birthday cards by owl even after her and Ron had split. She had something of an inkling that this may have been his wife's doing more than his own. While Bill was loyal to his brother, Fleur did whatever Fleur wanted and didn't set much store by Mrs. Weasley's maternal ties. Hermione knew all too well that Fleur and Mrs. Weasley did not get on all that way and for once, she admired Fleur's ability to not be swayed by social convention. Also Hermione would always be grateful for how Fleur tended to her at Shell Cottage all those years ago.

Bill looked at Malfoy and Smith as though unsure who to go for first. He chose Smith.

"Weasley." Smith greeted flatly in a pompous tone but almost as though he was dreading what would inevitably be coming his way.

"I've just heard." Bill growled behind gritted teeth. "What the hell happened?"

"Minor security breach. We are investigating."

"_MINOR? _It's not bloody minor when someone can waltz into a high security bank and start writing codes all over my department's vaults!"

"They didn't get into the vault!" Zacharias hissed back, looking around with a look of panic should anyone else overhear them. Bill's voice and angry tone had attracted some interested stares. "Nothing was taken, was it?"

"Oh, well that makes it much better(!)" Bill snorted as though in disbelief. Hermione couldn't help but shake her head at Smith's idiocy.

"Look, I've got people onto it. It will be sorted!"

"Well, you better! Because if this happens again, I will personally track down Fluffy and give her your address." Zacharias seemed to physically shrink away at this. "The boss want's a word." Bill announced. "Wants an explanation, apparently." There was a hint of glee in Bill's voice and Zacharias scurried away, partly to get away from Bill and also to face his boss and try and wriggle out of the mess he was in. Bill watched Smith go before turning his attention to Malfoy. Unlike Smith, however, Malfoy didn't so much as blink under Bill's glare. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping, would you believe?" Malfoy answered evenly.

"Since when do you help anyone except yourself?"

"Well, everyone needs a pastime."

"I told Zacharias to call the Law Enforcement Squad."

"Yes, well, they're not exactly subtle in their investigation. I assume the bosses want this as quiet as possible."

"I wouldn't be surprised if your Death Eater pals were behind this."

"I think Azkaban has kept them otherwise preoccupied at the moment to want to start leaving Runes on the vaults."

"What do you get out of this then, Malfoy?"

"Well, pissing you off is always fun."

Bill looked like he was trying not to punch Malfoy when Ragnok came up to them both. He brandished the parchment for Malfoy to take. "Here are the names you requested."

Malfoy took it and looked at it briefly, before rolling it up and putting it inside the pocket on the inside of his coat. "Thank you. Well, shouldn't you get back to work, Weasley? I'm sure you don't want to give your bosses the impression it's your teams lack of care that's encouraging these break-ins." Bill's hand was practically twitching with his urge to break Malfoy's nose but, unlike his brother, he had relatively good control on his temper and managed to leave with nothing but a scowl in Malfoy's general direction. Ragnok nodded his goodbye and went back to work. "You can come out now."

Hermione slipped out from behind the pillar. Malfoy didn't seem at all concerned at her sudden disappearance earlier and she had wondered whether he'd noticed at all. Then again, Malfoy noticed absolutely everything.

"You don't have to wind him up, you know." Hermione reasoned sternly. "He's clearly under a lot of pressure."

"Granger, I was practically being polite compared to how I normally address a Weasley. I didn't mention his family's poverty once."

"That's because they're not poor anymore!" Hermione snapped. "Half the family are Aurors."

"Still, I'd like to consider it personal growth."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Malfoy took out the parchment and scanned it before nodding.

"We need to track down the Charm Breaker who was on duty at the time of the break-in. And, what a coincidence, he's not in work today."

"Do you think it was an inside job?"

"No, I think it was meant for someone _on _the inside."


	10. Apartment Puzzle Pieces

**I'm back again. University is done for the year so I have spare time once again. I've been fairly neglectful of this story (my bad!) as I've been updating the other two. It's fairly idiotic of me to have two other feature length fics running but I do have a habit of not thinking my ideas totally through in terms of keeping the updates regular. I moved this story to the crossover section as it is basically a crossover. Hope any audiences like what I've done with the two worlds. **

**Thank you all so much for the lovely feedback. I appreciate every single review I get so please continue.**

**Anyway enough of my rambling. Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock. **

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><p>Hermione didn't even attempt to get Malfoy to explain where on Earth they were running off to next. He did hail a taxi to take them there which was a little odd but she didn't question it vocally. She was fast learning that questions would either remain unanswered or answered in the form of a snide comment.<p>

The taxi cab stopped at a block of flats. They looked plush, expensive and made for the high earners of London. On closer inspection, she noticed that many people were passing it without so much as a glance. It was like the Leaky Cauldron in many ways. It was then that Hermione realised that it was a wizarding building. Muggles were unaware of it as that was what the charm intended.

Draco strode up to the entrance and looked at the names written for each flat with a buzzer. With a gloved finger, he pressed the one at the very top. The name said Mordecai.

"Are you determined for everyone to remain at least five steps behind you at all times?" Hermione asked hotly.

"Call it narcissistic but I find it saves time." Malfoy looked at the buzzer and found that no-one had responded. Hermione herself quirked an eyebrow. She always answered within ten seconds of the bell being rung. He pressed his finger to the button once again and waited. Nothing.

"Maybe they're out?" Hermione reasoned.

"Where? At work?" He asked sarcastically.

"People do pull sick days from time to time." She sniped back.

"Have you?"

"Well, um, well, no, but…" Malfoy sniggered and began to walk around the side of the building. Hermione trotted behind him. There was a fire exit to the side with a glass window that showed the lobby. Malfoy took out his wand and murmured the unlocking spell to no avail.

"This is a magical building, Malfoy. They're protected against-" But Hermione's words were cut off by a smash. Malfoy had calmly tucked his wand back into his coat and proceeded to smash a small hole in the glass with his elbow. He reached in and opened the door easily.

"Yet not shatter proof glass." He finished and strolled in. Hermione was outraged.

"You can't destroy private property!" She argued following him inside.

"Really? What they gonna do? Phone the police? Oh, wait…" Malfoy was already ascending the stairs and on his way to the top floor. Hermione ground her teeth together. Most girls spend their Saturdays going shopping or watching the telly. What does she do? She runs around with a nutter!

Hermione had a stitch in her side by the time they reached the top floor (what the hell is wrong with using the lift?) and Malfoy was in the process of unlocking the door to the flat. Every door had coded that could be written using wands. Malfoy wrote a succession of numbers in the air that glowed like fire and suddenly the door swung forward.

"How do you know the code?"

"Judging by the building location, the date of birth of the individual and the-"

"-Oh forget I asked!" Hermione snapped, striding into the flat. She didn't care what he said: she could never have been _this _annoying in school!

The flat was as plush and expensive as the apartment complex in general. New kitchen, shiny bathroom, shag carpeting, freshly painted walls. It was of a high standard. There were also definite touches of wizardry. Instead of a pot, there was a cauldron sat in the kitchen. The Daily Prophet was strewn on the table with the waving, moving picture on the front. An owl was idly cleaning itself in its cage in the corner of the room and spell books filled the bookcase in the living room.

Hermione looked in the kitchen. "All looks normal. Doesn't look like they've gone very far."

"Oh, you're right there." Hermione turned. Malfoy was stood at the door of the bedroom. The door had been closed on their arrival. Hermione didn't like the look on his face. It was shocked, scared or pleased. It simply read to her as though he had found exactly what he'd expected to find.

She walked to the side of him and looked through the doorway. A young man, couldn't have been older than thirty, was sprawled across the bed. There was no doubt he was dead. The lifelessness of his open eyes and vacant expression said it all.

Hermione let her weight fall on the door frame. Not another one…

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><p>Malfoy sent a Patronus to Nott's office to alert him of what had been discovered at the flat. Hermione had attempted to use the owl but had been pecked rather viciously for her troubles. The owl was clearly loyal to his owner and no one else. Malfoy had stood at the side of the bed, looking closely at the body. Hermione chose to sit herself down in the living room. She couldn't get used to the past-time of finding bodies, nor would she ever want to either. It was not the sort of life you would actually <em>want <em>to get used to. Somehow though, the idea of not doing something about these murders left her all the more cold than never having to see them. Perhaps Zabini was right - maybe she did have a hero complex.

Wizarding police apparated into the flat and began to collect evidence. Hermione and Malfoy had a DNA repelling spell put upon them and had their wands checked to see if they were the ones to cast the Avada Kadavra spell, which they were disqualified as suspects from. The last thing Hermione wanted right at that moment was being arrested for a death of a man she had never met.

She eventually went back into the bedroom where Malfoy was inspecting the body. This Mordecai bloke seemed to have committed suicide. Everything was locked, with all the correct protection and they were on the top floor of the block of flats.

"Maybe he was worried that he would get the blame for the break in at Gringotts. It did happen on his shift." Hermione reasoned, as well as standing well back from where the body lay. It felt almost disrespectful to be prodding and poking around a dead man even if it was to determine what happened to him.

"Perhaps." Malfoy murmured though with an air that suggested that perhaps he wasn't really listening or convinced. "Or perhaps he was the one the Runes were for."

"The Runes?"

Malfoy crossed the room to the wardrobe and picked up a suitcase. Opening it, Hermione saw vast amounts of dirty and creased clothing.

"He'd been away and not back very long, otherwise he'd have put this in the wash and put the suitcase away. My guess is he arrived home yesterday, had a quick nap then went to work."

"But he was listed as absent."

"Probably came in, saw the Runes then made a run for it."

"But no one can understand them. They're from a completely different period of time which not even Hogwarts taught as far back as."

"Doesn't mean that there isn't a person in the world who cant decipher them. There are still corners of the world where they can be used."

"So someone was giving him a message?" Hermione asked.

"Certainly looks that way. Or maybe even a warning."

A young wizard detective whom Hermione recognised from when she had called for assistance at the college popped his head around the door.

"The Aurors are here."

Hermione suddenly went cold and stared wide-eyed at Malfoy. She could maybe explain away one situation where they happened to be exactly the same place at the same time but two? Impossible.

An Auror entered the room but it wasn't Harry or Ron. Instead it was a tall man whom Hermione knew all too well.

"Neville?"

Neville looked from Hermione to Malfoy and back again. He looked winded at the very best and distraught at worst.

"I thought they were winding me up." He murmured. Any relief that Hermione had felt at seeing him was quickly seeping out of the room.

"Neville, we were just-"

"What's happened here then?" Neville asked in a ringing voice. He clearly didn't want to deal with, well, whatever the hell Malfoy and Hermione were at the moment.

"Well, he has no pulse, not breathing and generally not moving, so I'd concluded there's a good chance he's dead." Hermione shut her eyes and breathed deeply. Why did Malfoy insist on winding people up?

"I was thinking more of the circumstances." Neville bit back. Hermione's lips quirked. He was clearly not intimidated by Neville any longer.

"Well, it looks maybe suicide could be the option." Hermione interjected.

"It's certainly what the boys have been telling me." Neville agreed, cocking his head to look at the young man on the bed.

"It would certainly look that way unless for something glaringly obvious."

"Which is?" Neville demanded. Malfoy bent down and picked something up off the floor. Holding it out, Hermione and Neville peered at it. It was a wand and as everybody in the room had theirs on them, it looked like it belong to Mordecai.

"This is on the floor. On the left side of his body."

"And?"

"Mordecai was struck on the right side. So unless he shot himself with the spell and then managed in death to fling his wand onto the other side of his body, it's looking like someone else may have had in it."

"Right side?" Neville asked, starting to look genuinely confused.

"A small telling bruise is beginning to form on the right side of his neck. The impact of Avada Kadavra is like a punch."

Hermione bent over and looked. There was a small bruise forming. She hadn't even noticed.

"It is a possibility though." Neville argued.

"Check the wand. I will guarantee that the spell did not come from that wand." Malfoy tossed the wand towards Neville who just about caught it.

"Ok then. But how do explain someone getting into a top floor of a Wizarding complex without so much as popping a door or leaving a mark. By the way, the building manager asked me to give this to you." He handed Malfoy a piece of parchment. "It's the bill for the window."

Malfoy barely glanced at it before shoving it into his pocket. Hermione tittered even though she knew full well the cost will not even dent his bank balance. Galleons really weren't a concern for Malfoy. Pity really…

"Glad that you're interest is piqued. I'll leave you to ponder it." Malfoy left the bedroom at the last word.

Hermione was left standing alone in the bedroom with Neville. Any other time she would have asked how he was and how his grandmother was keeping. So she felt brave and tried to act natural.

"So hows the Auror office?"

"Same as its always been. Harry and Ron are well, unless you're wondering."

Hermione sighed. "That's good. They've not really been in touch these past few months."

Neville shifted on his feet. "Sorry. I heard you and Ron had split."

"Who hasn't?"

"What are you doing here? With Malfoy? I mean," Neville's eyes suddenly went wide, "Oh Merlin, please tell me you two are the reason you and Ron-"

"NO!" Hermione shrieked, not even caring that the Law Enforcement squad next door could probably hear. "Good God, me and Malfoy are just… well, I gotta be honest, I don't know what the hell we are but we're not that and never have been!"

"Okay, okay, sorry!" Neville managed. "I was just wondering. I mean, you two have a lot of bad history."

"I know but somehow he's… different."

"Different good?"

"Different I don't even know." Hermione admitted. "Look, just don't tell Ron and Harry. I just want some peace and, quite frankly, they have no right telling me what I can and can't do. Not after ignoring me all these months!"

"I won't say anything." Neville sighed. He looked torn but Hermione believed that he wouldn't say a word. "It's nice to see you though. I mean that. I miss seeing you all the time."

Hermione smiled. "I've missed you as well."

Neville took Mordecai's wand and left the room. Hermione followed. It was probably for the best that she didn't lose track of Malfoy. Otherwise he'd be running off to Heaven knows where.

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><p>Hermione eventually caught up with Malfoy and found him, leaning against a bench outside the flats.<p>

"Done with your little reunion then?" He asked boredly. Hermione scowled.

"Just because you don't see the point in maintaining friendships doesn't mean I should do the same."

"Yes, and your friendships have proved to be set in stone, haven't they?" He replied. The casual tone seemed to sting all the more. "Come on, we better tell Smith that he will be one employee down from now on." He caught hold of her wrist and she was soon being dragged through the process of side-along apparition.

The restaurant they landed outside of was plush, expensive and rather pretentious. Hermione had come here when Ron had got his job in the Auror office. He'd been intent on splashing his cash as he'd never had the opportunity to do so before. Hermione had never wanted to come again though. The food was too small and didn't taste good enough to cost 10 Galleons a dish.

She followed Malfoy into the restaurant, who waved away the snooty looking head waitor, and began to approach a large table. The business men were talking and guffawing at jokes Hermione couldn't hear. Probably to do with money. She caught sight of Zacharias Smith. Malfoy announced loudly.

"It was a message. And not intended for you encase you were wondering."

Zacharias seemed both shocked and annoyed to see Malfoy and Hermione interrupt his meal, but Hermione didn't have it in her to care. She was constantly annoyed when around Zacharias.

"Not now Malfoy. I'm having dinner. Come back another time." His snobbish tone made his fellow diners chuckled and Hermione to dig her nails into her palms. Malfoy merely smiled a smirk that promised to make Zacharias squirm.

"Oh I think I'll have to disturb your digestive pattern on this one occasion. One of the Curse Breakers at Gringotts is dead. Very possibly not from natural causes either."

Somebody dropped their fork and any sniggering ceased.

"Dead?"

"Would you like to continue this in private or would you like to finish desert first? Might join you. I am partial to cheesecake."

Zacharias quickly shooed Hermione and Malfoy back to the bar where he could talk without being heard. Malfoy gave Smith the details of the dead man.

"Yes, I know him. He was a friend of Weasley's, hardly pleasant to me but a good worker so I couldn't sack him." They met in Romania apparently."

"So it seems he had enemies." Hermione admitted.

"Who hasn't got enemies?" Zacharias dismissed, "I bet you have a few but they don't break into your work place and splash some paint about."

"There's a bigger picture than your sodding security holes!" Malfoy snapped. "He was killed for his troubles."

"Have you found out who killed him and broke into my bank?" Zacharias asked.

"Found them? We've only just found the body." Hermione argued.

"Well then, find the killer and then get them to admit how they got in. Until then, don't bother me again." Zacharias turned and walked back to his table. Malfoy didn't stop him this time.

"Some people never change." Hermione muttered. "So what do we do now?"

"Find out more about Mordecai and find out his links to Runes so old that even you can decipher them. Because there is a bigger story here. Gringotts is just chapter one."


	11. Lunchtime Reunions

**Hello again. Thank you so much for all the great feedback. I'm so pleased that people think that the two worlds actually work. Thank you to everyone who left a review. I appreciate every one I get.**

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><p>Hermione had trouble trying to keep her focus on her work on Monday morning. She had spent the remainder of her weekend, trying to decipher the codes of the Runes to no avail. The script was so old that she couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was still a source of great frustration and loss of temper for Hermione when she actually couldn't wrap her head around something. The one very small consolation was Malfoy was as puzzled and unable to decipher them as she was. This was small comfort for her ego but a rather tall obstacle in trying to solve Mordecai's death and the break-in within Gringotts. Malfoy had lost interest in the mystery of how someone had managed to get into Gringotts and escaped without being detected in any way whatsoever. The murder had grabbed his attention and he was now in full detective mode. Hermione had half a mind to be annoyed at his dereliction of duty but the fact that it was Zacharias Smith who they were giving the run around dampened the irritation.<p>

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the floor manager. She smiled in greeting at the older woman who was positively beaming at Hermione.

"Hello Sandra. Can I help you?"

"Hello dear. I've just popped around to see if you've filled in that report for the Mermaid Decree."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. She looked in her paper tray and spotted the parchment. It was bare.

"Oh." Hermione's cheeks were burning. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it wasn't due until Thursday."

"Oh, it isn't but… well, you normally…" Sandra trailed off somewhat. Hermione thought about it. It was true. She did have a habit of trying to finish things promptly. Normally she handed back any parchments she was given the day after receiving them.

"I'll have it to you by Thursday," Hermione assured. Sandra nodded and took her leave. Hermione felt a little strange. Normally, she would be completely mortified at the prospect of missing a deadline for her work. Today, however, it seemed rather trivial in the face of all her other problems. Also it wasn't due until Thursday. Just because she was normally punctual doesn't mean people can just take it for granted or advantage of it.

She made her way down to the Atrium at dinner time to get some lunch. She hated lunchtimes normally as it always resulted in her grabbing a sandwich and going back to her office. She knew Harry and Ron ate in the Atrium cafeteria and made a conscious effort to stay out of the way. It always made people uncomfortable. Today, however, she felt somewhat less concerned. It was about time life got back to normal for everyone. Maybe her staying away had prolonged the awkwardness somewhat. Also, she really fancied a cooked meal. A sandwich really didn't do the trick sometimes.

She sat herself down with her dinner and began to feast on her meal of lasagne and chips (she was in the mood for carbs). She fought the feeling of loneliness that came with sitting at a table alone. She wasn't alone, she asserted; she was independent.

She tried not to look up from her dinner or the book she'd brought with her when she heard Ron's loud laugh entering the room and tried not to shift in her seat when his laugh stopped abruptly from catching sight of her. She shoved another fork full of lasagne in her mouth and focused so hard on the sentence she was reading, her sight nearly blurred. She chanced a glance up. Ron was scowling and was piling his plate high with nearly everything on offer at the serving station. Harry looked worn down.

Hermione took a deep breath through her nose. She tried to remember Malfoy and his cool aloofness. He never showed his emotions unless they were exasperation, amusement or excitement when a case caught his attention. It earned him respect. So she painted on the lofty aloofness on her face and continued to eat. Within five minutes, she was able to focus on her book and had finished her food. This was easier than she'd thought.

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up from her book and then broke into a smile.

"Dean! How are you?"

"I'm great," Dean brought out the seat facing her and sat himself down, "I actually came to see you anyway. I need to get written permission for a pet."

"I know I'm Head of Magical Creatures but surely you don't need my go-ahead for a pet."

"Oh, I do. It's for a pet Phoenix."

Hermione dropped her fork.

"Where on Earth did you get a Phoenix?"

"I've been travelling abroad most of this year and I found him on my travels. What can I say? We bonded."

"Well, then I'll have to check that his conditions are satisfactory. But I trust that there shouldn't be a problem." Dean smiled. Hermione sat back and admire his mature look. He was still one of the tallest men he'd ever met, with flawless skin and prominent cheekbones. His eyes seemed larger too. "So… what are you doing with yourself these days?"

"I'm surprised you don't know Mione." Dean chuckled. "I'm playing with the Chudley Cannons."

"How is that a surprise that I don't know. You know my feelings towards Quiddich."

"Who doesn't?" He chuckled. His voice was very pleasantly deeper. "Well, I see you've done very well for yourself. Head of a Ministry Department, eh? Very impressive."

"I like to think so." Hermione was sitting back in her chair, smiling naughtily. She didn't know what was coming over her. It seemed she was still in her 'Malfoy' mindset. He was cool and calm and it clearly got him a lot of attention from the opposite sex, as his little bedroom gymnastics showed all too well. Dean wasn't discouraging it and there was a little spark inside her that was all too aware that Ron was sitting close by. She'd made a complete disaster of making him jealous when he was all over Lavender Brown all those years ago but that was her own fault. She should have picked someone other than Cormac McLaggan. Yet she was still eternally grateful that she hadn't stooped so low as to ask out Zacharias Smith. This, however, felt quite natural. Dean was a good looking man and an old friend. Why not? She was a single woman.

The harsh scrape of a chair snapped them both out of their eye lock. She turned just in time to watch Ron storm from the cafeteria. She felt a little victory but refused to look in Harry's direction. He'd only look at her with disappointment.

"So… I take it you and Ron aren't on friendly terms?" Dean asked, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed.

"No, not particularly. Maybe this time there is too much water under the bridge." Hermione didn't sound as sad as before. Whilst in the past, the fractured and broken friendship had been the source of many tears and heartache, now it didn't sting quite so badly. Maybe that was a good sign in the long run.

"I'm sorry. It must be tough for you. Where are you living now?"

"…In Luna Lovegood's flat. She has a place on Baker Street. I'm renting it."

Hermione spent the rest of her lunch break chatting to Dean about how Luna was doing, what Seamus was up to and about the old days in the Gryffindor common room. They parted ways when she realised she was due back at her station in five minutes with the promise that she would sort out his request as soon as possible. She walked back to her office with a little spring in her step and a hint of a smile.

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><p>Hermione returned to the flat that night, feeling light and airy. The day had gone by surprisingly quick. It seemed working in a good mood made time speed up a little. She entered the flat to find Malfoy with his feet up and reading a paper.<p>

"Busy day?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with irony.

"Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"Not really."

"Well, I won't plead my case, then."

Hermione dropped her bag on the kitchen table and shrugged off her jacket. Her mood was still good so the banter wasn't as infuriating as it usually was for her. The verbal jousting kept her mind sharp. Malfoy stood and walked to the kitchen. He dropped the newspaper onto the table in front of her. It was folded on a back page.

"Read that."

Hermione picked up the paper. There was a picture of a middle-aged, balding man. The article itself was very interesting.

"Killed in a flat with all the proper protection?"

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Malfoy questioned.

"Very. A journalist. Writing about Romania mainly. Do you think it was the same people?"

"Looks a little far-fetched to be a coincidence. Both go to the same specific country. Both killed in near identical circumstances on the same night as each other."

"So what connects them other than that?" Hermione asked, trying to work out what on Earth a Curse Breaker and a journalist would share in common. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed.

"Why are you so pink in the face?" Hermione looked up. Malfoy was looking at her with unwavering scrutiny. There wasn't his trademark smirk on his features. He was quite expressionless. Hermione tried to look innocent and unassuming but it seemed her new found capacity to lie didn't stretch to Malfoy.

"It was a bit warm in work. And I power-walked home."

"In those shoes?" Hermione knew she was growing pinker. Her heels was actually quite sensible but still wouldn't allow her to walk particularly fast without falling flat on her face. Hermione tried to scramble around for an answer but Malfoy turned away and reached for his coat. She didn't know why his curiosity made her uncomfortable and why she felt the need to lie in the first place about the fact that she'd seen Dean. She reasoned to herself that he would probably poke fun at them but it rang a bit hollow.

Malfoy had put his scarf on with practised ease and was now standing, seemingly waiting for her.

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Well, it does strike me as slightly strange that two men die in near identical circumstances. Also I need to have a little chat with Longbottom."

"I'm not coming if you're just going to taunt him again."

"As fun as my capacity to piss people off is, I have bigger, more interesting things to deal with than to cast a leg-locking jinx on him."

Hermione ground her teeth.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Talk about these kind of cases as though they've been designed primarily for your amusement? These are people's lives."

"These _were _peoples' lives. Past tense. I doubt very highly that they would care how I went about their case as long as I solved it at the end. Which I have every intention of doing."

"So what am I need for this time then?"

"Well, I can't very well go swanning into the Auror offices and demand to know all the inner details of a case like this while Potter and all the other Aurors are there. You know the breaks and time patterns that Longbottom follows better than me. Hence our chances of getting Longbottom alone are better with you around."

Malfoy turned on his heel and began to walk out of the apartment. As though on autopilot, she caught hold of her suit jacket and followed him down the stairs. She really did need a new past time.

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><p>The Atrium was noticeably quiet when they managed to creep back in. They took one of Malfoy's secret coded shortcuts. It turned out there were underground passages all through the Atrium. All Malfoy had to do was move a loose pavement stone down a secluded alleyway and drop down. A few well chosen words and the wall of one of the Atrium toilets parted for them just like Diagon Alley. The difficult part was leaving the cubicle separately and without being seen. If someone caught Hermione coming out of a cubicle with Draco Malfoy, she wouldn't need Rita Skeeter, her reputation would be the subject of debate at the Ministry for months to come.<p>

Hermione could remember the times when Aurors were allowed breaks and that Neville normally went to the coffee bar for a quick coffee and pumpkin pasty. Sure enough, after half an hour, he came striding down. He got something of a shock when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and yanked into the closed cafeteria. Neville scrambled for his wand until he saw his apparent captors were arguing.

"Malfoy! There are subtler ways to get him alone!" Hermione argued hotly.

"Sometimes subtle is not as helpful as the quicker ways." Malfoy dismissed. Neville forgot about his wand and sighed.

"What's this about?" Neville asked, looking from Hermione, who looked apologetic, and Malfoy, who looked like he was in a hurry.

Malfoy held out that day's Daily Prophet with the article about the journalist on show.

"I take it you've seen this." Malfoy asked.

"Yes. We've got the Law Enforcement Squad surveying the flat. Nott's making sure that there really wasn't a way in."

"You know as well as I do that he won't find one. No wonder Nott always looks so worn-down when I see him if you Aurors send him on these pointless endeavours." Neville looked irritated at Malfoy's attitude. Malfoy, too, looked annoyed with the pace this was taking. "Have you inspected Mordecai's wand?"

"Yes."

"And Avada Kadavra, was it cast from his wand?"

"No."

"No, so will you now stop dragging your damn feet and listen to me?" Hermione wanted to smack her hand to her forehead. Malfoy's people skills left a lot to be desired. "These two are linked. I don't know how but I will find out. But only if you actually stop following Potter like a puppy and let me take a closer look."

Neville looked torn between throwing a hex at Malfoy and considering his offer. It was apparent that this case was causing Neville a lot of stress because it seemed so impossible. If Malfoy couldn't quite deduce it yet then Neville was without a hope.

"I have to be there to make sure you don't tamper with any evidence. You don't do anything without my oversight." Neville ordered. Malfoy smirked in victory and Hermione had a sneaky suspicion that those particular conditions may be forgotten in the long run.

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><p><strong>What do you think? Press the fancy blue button below and let me know. Pretty please?<strong>


	12. Teatime Intrigue

**Hello again. I must apologise again for my tardiness. No excuse this time, just been catching up television and reading books I've been putting off for so long. On happy note, I passed University for the year so I'm in a good mood. Hope you enjoy this update. **

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><p>The apartment that Malfoy and Hermione were taken to by Neville was in a state of disarray. Hermione couldn't determine whether this was the result of break-in or of the victim's inability to keep a clean flat. There seemed to be various spell books and novels strewn about the place. It seemed, if possible, that the journalist liked books more than she did.<p>

"The area hasn't been disturbed. We've removed the body and have been searching for evidence." Neville informed Hermione as she looked around. It wasn't a magical flat but they were on the top floor and the victim had cast various magical protection spells around the flat. Malfoy was looking around for clues. His eyes were narrowed in a way that Hermione had already learnt that it was wise not to disturb him. He was in the zone and God forbid anyone disturb it.

"What do you know about this guy?" Hermione asked.

"Name was Michael Stevenson. Muggleborn but gifted with a quill. Was taken under Rita Skeeter's wing some years ago and worked for part of her team. He mainly followed Magical Animal Cases, mainly Dragons. Found them interesting."

"No dalliances with Dark Magic or criminal activity?"

"None. Background check came back clean. Not even an Apparition fine."

Hermione rubbed her forehead. This case was getting more and more difficult to understand without all the clues on the table.

Malfoy was looking around the walls and down at the streets below from the window in the lounge. He tutted.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"They underestimated them. These people are advanced."

"What?" Neville chorused.

"We're dealing with people who can change shape to suit their destination. Able to climb several stories and even get past the guards at Gringotts."

"That's illogical." Hermione argued. "Animagi only have one form of transformation. One animal alone. And Metamorphmagus can only change certain aspects of their appearance."

"There are loop holes and you know as well as me that not all Animagi are registered."

"Oh, come on, how can you know that for certain?" Neville demanded looking disbelieving and tickled.

"Well, unless they can walk through walls and then morph back into solid form, I believe I'm out of answers!" Malfoy snapped.

"Malfoy, there's little to no proof of that. We don't even know if these two men are linked yet."

"Fine." Malfoy snapped, so the F practically bounced around the room with false sweetness. He scooped down to the side and swept a book that lay haphazardly open on the floor near where the body lay. "Then maybe this will give us more of a clue." Hermione looked at the inside of the book. It had a receipt for a library dated just the day before. "Surely, with your vast knowledge of all things to do with literature, you can tell that this will probably be the last place he would have been seen alive."

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><p>Hermione huffed as she walked down the aisles. The book had a code on it to show where it can be located on which aisle and on which shelf. She was very much familiar with these codes; she'd spent years perfecting reading them while at Hogwarts and at the Ministry. This library was a little less well stocked and referenced than the Ministry library but you needed special permission and clearance to search the Ministry libraries. Judging that Stevenson was a journalist and worked for Skeeter, there was no reason to guess why Shacklebolt had denied him access.<p>

"Why are we here?" Hermione demanded for the hundredth time. "This book is to do with wizarding weight loss techniques! It has no links to Gringotts."

"There was a reason why he put up so many protections. Now check. Is this the aisle?"

"Yes, it's the damn aisle but that doesn't mean-" Her argument died in her throat. Malfoy turned around.

"What is it?"

Hermione could only point, wide eyed. Malfoy stood next to her and saw it. Something that looked like fire behind some books on the shelf in front of them. Together, they made quick work removing the books out of the way. The Runes were there, still unreadable but exactly the same as the ones at Gringotts.

"Okay… you may have a point."

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><p>The cases were officially linked and they set to work collecting every piece of information about Stevenson and Mordecai that they could. The kitchen table was filled with all the details they could find on the two men. Neville had finally conceded that the two men were the results of a murder and opened an official case. Malfoy had gone into full detective mode. Hermione wasn't allowed to turn on the radio or the television for days as he sat in his chair in a trance. He needed to pick his brain by the looks. Hermione also tried to work out a way of finding out exactly what the Runes meant and got out of the Atrium some of the oldest, dustiest books on Ancient Runes in syndication. They were the type only Dumbledore would have read for pleasure yet they gave nothing away in terms of information and she couldn't get a match for the fiery graffiti.<p>

All this time searching for something which she didn't seem to be within grasping reach of took up all of Hermione's energy. So much so that she only just got the Mermaid report in on time and didn't even have time to proof read it. She was furious with herself as she was certain it wasn't her best work yet no-one called her up on it. She made a promise to take on double her usual reports when this whole thing was over. She didn't want her reputation to go to waste and become threatened just because she was involved in a great big wizarding version of Cluedo!

The office was becoming stifling on one particular Wednesday and, on impulse, decided to get out of the way of the Ministry and branch out. Dean's case for his licence to keep his pet Phoenix was coming up. She knew that she could easily send someone else in her department to tend to it but somehow she wanted to do it herself. She wanted to see an old school friend and feel normal. If just for an hour.

Hermione apparated to Dean's street. She looked up at his house. It was nice, looked expensive and quite tradition. Clearly, playing for the Chuddley Canons paid well.

On impulse, she took out her compact mirror and checked her face and hair before ringing the door.

Dean answered, dressed in Muggle clothing. Jeans slung low on his hips and a t-shirt. It showed off how much more defined his muscles were now compared to Hogwarts, when he'd been as thin as he was tall.

"Mione. Didn't expect you to come yourself."

"Yes, well, at a bit of a loose end. And I'm interested to see a phoenix again."

"Well, wait no further. Come in."

The inside of his house looked expensive. It was clean but not so bare that it looked minimalist. Hermione didn't care for minimalism. It was too cold. She like ornaments, shelves filled with books and the odd clutter if only in the airing cupboard. As long as it wasn't on the floor, she was quite happy. She had never understood Ron's ability to dump his clothes on the bathroom floor and just leave them there. Malfoy was many things but she had never once found his underwear lying around.

"You okay, Mione? You're a bit pink."

"What?… Oh! Oh, it's nothing. Just thinking something I really shouldn't. So, where's the bird?" She said it all very quickly; she sounded half mad. Dean just shrugged and led her to the kitchen.

"Here it is." Sat on its perch besides the window sat the magnificent bird. Hermione had to stop to catch a breath. Although not so crimson and golden and instead with brownish red feathers, the bird looked so strikingly similar to Dumbledore's old pet that a lump appeared in Hermione's throat. She felt like she was sixteen again. "Beautiful, isn't she?"

"How can you tell it's a she?"

"Don't know. Just a feeling I get. I named her Melody. Mainly due to the song."

Hermione spent a few moments checking that the bird was comfortable and being fed all the appropriate foods. Everything turned up okay.

"Why is she in the kitchen?"

"She likes it there. It's right by the window, full of natural light, she seems to feel more at home there. Felt cruel to move her."

"She looks young."

"She is. She's recently had a burning day. I thought she'd been looking a bit rough and then she burst into flames. Only problem was she was in the Quiddich locker rooms at the time. Our poor manager suffered some nasty burns. Hasn't let me bring her to work since."

"That's hardly surprising. What was she doing there anyway?"

"Delivering a parcel to me. She doesn't like it when other owls do it. Sulks all day." Yet he gently stroked the bird with obvious affection. "Stay for a cup of tea?"

"I really should be heading back." There wasn't much conviction in her excuse.

"One cup? I'll even give you one of my special biscuits."

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><p>As it happened, Hermione had three cups of tea and nearly an entire tin of his special biscuits and therefore was quite late getting home. She was cheerful however. There was something about Dean's company that she thoroughly enjoyed and she felt light and breezy.<p>

She had barely entered the flat when she heard Malfoy's annoyed tone.

"Any reason why you're so late?"

Hermione looked to the wall of newspapers Malfoy had set up. He was stood before them, still inspecting them as though the answer would simply jump out before him.

"I had a lot of paper work."

Malfoy turned his head to look at her. Hermione had forgotten his ability to read her like a book with a simple glance. She hated the way he made her feel completely naked. His eyes trailed up and down her and Hermione waited for the usual diatribe of what flavour biscuits she had eaten. Nothing. He simply turned his head back to the wall, his mouth tighter than before. Hermione stood stock still for a moment, just encase he was late with his delivery but nothing. Total silence and his eyes were furiously searching the papers again. Slowly, she made her way to the armchair.

"Don't sit down. Don't get comfy. We've got work to do."

Hermione had to stop herself kicking the chair.

"Malfoy! I've been in work all day and I'm tired."

"Crime doesn't sleep, Granger." At these words, he caught hold of her arm and led her back to the front door, not paying attention to her protests. His grip was quite lazy but Hermione couldn't help but notice that he was now rather close. She caught a sniff of his scent now he was close enough for her to do so. It was musky but subtle. Overbearing cologne on a man was unattractive to her and she despised the stuff Ron insisted on putting on when he went to Ministry dos. The fact that she was close was the only reason she could vaguely detect the scent. She imagined it would be comforting to let it fill her senses if she was resting on his shoulder.

Whoa! Where did that come from?

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><p>Hermione had to bite back a grown as she entered the Atrium. She was here so often these days she was considering asking for a security job on top of her desk job. She loved her job, she truly did, but she would also enjoy a personal life. She never had been particularly bothered before. When she had lived with Ron, she had stayed back at work on her own accord for reasons she herself hadn't understood at the time. Ron had loved going out but she didn't particularly relish drinking at all hours in Taverns, even when Harry asked Ginny along so she had female company. Now however she felt free and had a rather unusual desire to try new things. So why was she back in her place of work when only the Aurors on night shift were around?<p>

Neville didn't ask too many questions about why Malfoy wanted to have a look at Stevenson's diary that was found on his person when they had taken away the body. Hermione could understand that Malfoy was desperately hunting for links to the two men. Details of the second man's day-to-day life written by his own hand would be most useful. So far it seemed unlikely that the two men had ever even met.

Neville located the diary and handed it over. He looked tired, Hermione noted. This case was clearly listed as a top priority for his team.

"Is Malfoy any closer?" He asked, the weariness that he had to rely on Malfoy for help at all clearly laced in his tone.

"He has that glint in his eye that suggests trouble so maybe."

"Are you… living with him for long?"

"However long it takes to get things back together I suppose."

"Look! I have to ask-"

Neville, we've discussed this! I am not involved with him, aside from living under the same roof and playing these little games that I seem to always be embroiled in."

"What? No! No, I believe you that there's nothing going on."

Hermione looked up. "You do?"

"Well, yeah, you said and you've never lied to me and also you go bright red when you lie. I remember when you tried to lie to Umbridge. Even I cringed."

Hermione couldn't contain a chuckle. It was true, being raised to always be honest by her parents had possessed certain downsides, but she had attained a more easier tact for spinning the truth. She wasn't about to let that slip though. If Neville was onside, all the better.

"Then what?"

"Well, what happened? Malfoy's… helping us. That just isn't meant to happen!"

"He's changed. Things happened in the past. They were bound to impact."

"But you don't know what?"

"Well, no." Hermione felt a slight prickling heat on her skull. She hated not knowing the truth. "I think Nott knows a little and Zabini but I can't seem to get all the facts and he's not particularly close to people. He talks to me and Luna. That's it. He doesn't seem to be in touch with other people."

"Are you curious?" Neville gaped. "I've been thinking about it constantly! I haven't seen him for eight years and he's transformed from a snotty, prejudiced little shit who could never stop bragging about how fabulous his life is to someone who won't discuss anything except a task at hand. He has hardly any wealth to show for it either. And he's so sharp. Malfoy was never that stupid but he has even ousted you at times now!"

Hermione simply stared over Neville's shoulder. God, he's right. It _is _strange. Very strange. She _lives _with the man and she barely knows him at all while he knows every little insignificant detail of her life. She thanked Neville for the diary and walked out of the Auror office in a daze.

She walked through the Atrium, going over the fact. Malfoy was essentially unrecognisable. She had been dubious at first and had believed it was just an act. Now she was certain that this new, supposedly improved Malfoy was here to stay and somehow she was growing more and more curious as to how he had arrived in the first place.

He made no mention of anything personal in his life at all. He never brought up his family, his status, his wealth, even his bed mates were gone by breakfast time. Malfoy, who loved to boast about aspects of his life which sometimes weren't even true, now seemed to be a recluse and a fiercely protective loner. Something had happened. But what?

Hermione wandered to the cafeteria and ordered a cup of coffee. As she sat down, she made mental notes. Zabini and Nott were fellow Slytherins and seemed to know him well, or knew him well at some point. Nott seemed to have drifted away and was as perplexed as Hermione as to what was wrong and Zabini seemed to be estranged indefinitely, despite being the one man who could match Malfoy for intelligence and mental sharpness. Hermione sipped her coffee. She would need to start her own little investigation to find out what had made Malfoy the way he was. Not that he would find out. If he was so insistent on keeping details back from her, what was the harm if she should do the same?

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><p><strong>Like it? Then let me know. Reviews are my happiness! <strong>


	13. Office Inquiry

Hermione was reluctant to let her intrigue take a backseat but she was always a staunch believer in putting priorities in order. So she began to rifle through Stevenson's diary in search of his day-to-day life. There were several messy scribbles and added on activities in each day of his diary. Skeeter was clearly a rather demanding woman to have as your boss.

The first thing that struck Hermione was just how many journeys Stevenson took to Romania. He wrote about the place rather frequently so it was plausible that maybe it was simply for business. She would certainly check if they coincided with Mordecai. She checked the diary for his last entry. He had a trip to Romania booked with the return date a day before his death. She remembered that Mordecai had a suitcase of dirty clothing from a trip he'd just returned from when they found him in the bedroom. So they seemed to be going to the same locations at the same time. That seemed a little too much of a coincidence.

She flicked through the pages to his last day. It had a note to visit a shop that she had noticed a few times on Diagon Alley. It held antiques for the magical world. Closing the little black book, she rose from her table and made for the exit. She slowed her pace before she made it to the Floo Network, however, and on sudden impulse, headed for the elevators. She knew Theo Nott worked long into the night as the Head of his department.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was fairly quiet. There were a few members at their desks, doing paper work. They all looked bored and worn-out and didn't pay too much attention to Hermione. She normally worked late hours and did errands for people who weren't even under her department so they barely glanced up. All the better, Hermione reasoned. The less attention I attract to myself these days, the better.

She could see Nott in his office through the open glass. Nott was sat at his desk, reading through some statements and occasionally scribbling things out and adding things to the document with his quill. She had not seen him for quite a while, at least not since Shunpike had effectively kidnapped Malfoy. He looked as tired and overworked as before. His hair could do with a cut. His fridge was so long that he could nearly tuck it behind one ear.

Hermione didn't knock on the door for a moment. She was having doubts. Maybe this was a little intrusive. While she was itching to know about Malfoy's past since Hogwarts, she was wondering whether this was a sore subject for Nott and maybe he was as clueless as her. He seemed genuinely exasperated by Malfoy at times. But then she remembered Malfoy's ability to read her entire background history with one lazy glance on the day they met again. He seemed to have no objection or problem with intruding other people's privacy so why should she? And Nott was a Slytherin. The two boys had shared a dormitory. They had been friends. Even if not quite on the same level Crabbe and Goyle had been once to Malfoy. She knocked briskly on the door and opened it.

Nott looked up and sighed deeply at the sight of her.

"If you want to procure a restraining order against Malfoy, go and ask Abbott. Believe me, she'll know how to handle that request."

"Would be a little redundant." Hermione replied. "I do live with him now."

Nott looked at her with an expression of disbelief. "He actually managed to wear _you _down?" He let out something close to a laugh but more like a breath. "I must say, even for Malfoy, that's impressive."

"Yes, well." Hermione was still a little embarrassed at how quickly she had caved. "I need your help."

"Sorry, Granger. Longbottom is covering this case with the two dead men. He's wanted his own case for ages now. I can't be involved."

"He's handling it well enough, thank you. It's information I need."

"What about?"

"About Malfoy."

Nott rolled his eyes and sighed. There was an air of resignation in his body language. Almost like he'd been expecting this visit at some point.

"What information do you need exactly? If it's criminal background, go nuts. He has his own filing cabinet. But other than that there is very little anyone knows."

"That's not true and you know it." Hermione pulled out the chair on the other side of him and his desk and sat herself down. "You may not know the ins and outs of his mind, who does, but you know certain things. You were friends."

"Exactly. 'Were'. Past tense."

"But why?"

"Because Malfoy doesn't do friends. He doesn't do attachments. He doesn't even do family ties anymore."

Hermione was enthralled. Nott knew more than he was letting on. Of this, she was utterly certain.

"Just tell me all you know."

"Why? What's this about? Do you want something to hold over him for insurance?"

"I just want to understand why I don't even recognise someone I once saw every day for six years."

Nott threw back his head and let out an angry growl. Hermione didn't flinch. She would magic up a sleeping bag if needs be because she wasn't moving.

"What exactly are you interested in?" Nott asked wearily.

"What happened to him after school? He didn't come back to Hogwarts to retake the seventh year like me and you."

"No. No, he stayed home. I think Narcissa and Lucius were worried about what would happen if he went back. Even though he was acquitted, he had a lot of enemies who wanted to exact their own brand of justice."

"Did you two keep in touch?"

"Yeah." Nott's mouth twisted. "We just… got each other. I'd known him for years but, after the war, we were closer. Dad was killed in Hogwarts and I was on my own. Narcissa took me in and I stayed with them for the holidays until I got on my feet. We'd both lost our innocence because Dad was as up to his neck in it as Malfoy's parents."

"What was he like? How was the family?"

"We pretty much resembled each other - broken down and with tainted views of the world we'd been brought up in. I went to Hogwarts and, when I came back for Christmas, he was always in the library. Blaise used to come around a lot then. They would spend a lot of time reading up on things. Narcissa would have to drag them out of the library to eat at times.

"The family was pretty much hanging by a thread. They did all the normal things but nothing felt normal. Narcissa was the strong one. She held it together, helped me when I needed it and generally became the matriarch they needed. She was haunted by what had happened but for her family… well, you know how important her family were to her."

Hermione simply nodded.

"Lucius… well, he'd always been so powerful, sure of himself and cold. I'd always been a bit scared of him in a way that I was with Dad. But after Azkaban and that long year, he just… became a shell. Hardly anything left to him at all. He was dependant on Narcissa. Maybe that's why Malfoy stayed out of the way. He must have reasoned that Narcissa had enough on her plate.

"I left Hogwarts and an examiner came to the Manor so Malfoy could take his NEWT in Potions. He wanted that at least. I went to see them the summer after and he was noticeably clever. Brilliant even. But he seemed frustrated. Blaise was the same. It was like they wanted more than what they had achieved on their own. I got my own apartment and a job at the Ministry. Malfoy got a job as a Potions Expert. For three months, it went smoothly. Then suddenly he quit without much warning and disappeared. When I finally met him again, he was the man he is now. And I didn't recognise him at all."

"How long was he away for?"

"About two years."

"Didn't you ask?"

"Draco wouldn't say anything he didn't want to. Just said that he had 'bettered himself'. I visited Narcissa and she was beside herself. Said that one day he had come home from work and packed a bag. Left that very night. When she eventually found him again, he was cold. Clinical. He hadn't written or visited at all. She was heartbroken."

"So… he never mentioned anything?"

"Never. Except…"

"What?" Hermione practically jumped forward with enthusiasm at more information.

"Well, Blaise and him seemed to have changed at the exact same time. They stopped talking after Blaise took the job at the Ministry. Draco was offered one as well. A really good one, on par with Blaise but turned it down. He was furious when Blaise didn't do the same. He seemed betrayed and cut all ties. I thought he was out of his mind to turn it down but, like I said, reading Malfoy's mind is near enough impossible now."

Blaise. They were freakishly similar in their ability to read all things. There was certainly a connection.

"And they never mentioned anything that they planned to do or gain when you spent the holidays?"

"Nothing. And, if they did, I doubt they would have trusted anyone but themselves. Our trust in people had been as good as destroyed after everything that happened."

Hermione sat there as what she had learnt sunk in a little. On one hand, it was a little frustrating that Nott didn't possess any clue as to what had actually happened, on the other however, she had a clearer picture of Malfoy's life after the War.

"Thank you for your help." She was at the door before he spoke.

"Be cautious, Granger."

"I will."

"No, I mean it. I may not know what happened to Malfoy, but there's something about him that's become unpredictable. I've never pushed too hard to find out about what it is that happened because there is a part of me that really doesn't want to know. I may not like what I hear and you might not either."

Hermione wasn't sure it was an outright warning but something about his words unsettled her as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

><p>Hermione walked through Diagon Alley in something of a daze. Clutching Stevenson's diary in her hand, she idly kept an eye out for the shop that he had visited. Her mind was piecing in some of the gaps of Malfoy's life. He'd been shaken and damaged by the war and had spent the first year afterwards in hiding. He seemed to have acquired a great thirst for knowledge in the meantime. Hermione understood better than anybody the logic behind that. Learning could be a welcome distraction to life at times. But more? How could he achieve more? What did he even mean by 'more'?<p>

He'd cut off his family. Walked away from them. How? Why? That was the one thing that had confused and alarmed Hermione above everything else. The Malfoy family were loyal beyond reason to one another. Narcissa had actually destroyed the cause she believed so much in by lying about Harry's death just so she could gain knowledge of whether her son was alive or not. They had sided with a psychopath killer just to remain by one another's side. What could have possibly happened that would break that apart?

She needed more information. She needed to find Blaise Zabini and ask him more questions. He had a prominent role in Malfoy's turn around as he had undergone essentially the same change. There was clearly no loyalty there really, or basically none that either took that seriously, so there was no chance of Malfoy finding out. She stopped in the street, nearly causing someone to bump into the back of her. Would Nott tell him? No… no, he seemed unwilling to get involved very much but he wouldn't go out of his way to stop her. He seemed to want to distance himself from whatever had gone on. Nott seemed to have an overwhelming desire for a peaceful and quiet life. Well, he's in the wrong job then as he essentially spent his days keeping tabs on Malfoy, something Hermione had trouble with and she shared living space with the man.

A cry of a bird shook her out of her trance. She looked up and saw a large red bird dive down from the sky. The phoenix she recognised as Dean's swooped down and dropped a letter into her hands before turning and soaring away. She looked down at it and opened it.

_Hi Hermione. _

_Thanks loads for giving Melody the all clear. She seems to be in a good mood and sings a lot. Not sure my neighbours share her good humour though. She is kind of loud. _

_Was thinking about popping to your office next Tuesday as I'm meeting Seamus for lunch and its not far from the Ministry. I enjoyed our catch-up. (And maybe I can eat all your biscuits this time - joke)._

_Let me know_

_Dean _

_X_

Hermione smiled fondly. She had a sneaking suspicion that the restaurant was not close to the Atrium as there were no restaurants for quite a while away from that general area. She did actually want to see Dean again however.

She knew something was growing between the two of them. It felt new and a little strange but quite exciting. It made her feel younger and somehow a little more womanly and she liked that feeling. Dean was sweet and charming in a very laid back way and he was a good-looking man. She was definitely flattered.

There was only another time she felt empowered and that was, and she couldn't quite believe this herself, when she was with Malfoy. Yes, he drove her crazy with his aloofness, constant smart arse quips and inability to do anything by the book, but she enjoyed the challenge of life with him. It was never easy, never a quiet ride, but she quite liked that. He was brilliant, no matter what the source, and the fact he deemed her an equal was something of a thrill. He refused to back down and neither would she. It was a battle of wills.

His presence was actually comforting now. She felt more powerful when he was around. And, above all, she trusted him. She actually trusted him. He went to stupid lengths to prove himself right but she had a feeling that, when the time came, she would be able to count on him. She didn't know why she believed this but she did. Maybe this was why it annoyed her so much that she knew so little about him. She wanted him to trust her even if she would never let him know that she actually did have that trust in him. She didn't want to get ahead of herself too much. Life with Malfoy had also taught her to keep her cards close to her chest.

She was still staring at the letter when someone bumped sharply into her. Looking up, she recognised the distinctive overcoat before he even turned around. The hair was a dead giveaway.

Malfoy spun around and looked relieved to see her. How odd… Before she could even draw breath, he was off.

"Mordecai came to Diagon Alley the day he died. He was delivering something, I don't know what, and left this street without it. He left it somewhere but where?"

Hermione had the answer in her hands but decided to act evasive. This may be her only opportunity to see Malfoy dumbstruck and without an answer to something she actually knew. She wanted to commit it to memory.

His hair looked a bit messy. It was barely noticeable to anyone who didn't know him but to Hermione, who was used to seeing him impeccably groomed on all occasions, it was distinctive. His fridge was a little scruffy and looked feathery. It stuck up a little like there was more volume to it. He had obviously been running his hands through it. He only did that when he was exasperated. His grey eyes looked a bit darker. It suddenly struck her how much older he had looked lately with his new grown up attitude. She was reminded he was only twenty-five as was she. He was young. And handsome.

"What's that?"

She followed his eyes down to her hands and her own eyes widened. Her letter. It was still open in her hands from when she'd been reading it. _Shit! _

Whipping it out of sight, yet knowing it was too late, she managed a half hearted excuse.

"Just a friend wanting to catch up."

She managed to look Malfoy in the face. He looked back. His eyes were shrewd, having clearly read the contents, but he looked a little too blank. Hermione found it unnerving when he went quiet. He normally had so much to say. His eyes began to dart about her. He was doing the clothing and body language reading thing. He could probably read how strong her coffee had been… and that she'd been to see Nott. Hot flush of anxiety ran through her. His eyes returned to her face. She knew that he knew. Again, it was a blank expression. Again, it unnerved her.

"You should really see a doctor about those hot flushes on your cheeks, Granger. It's a notable sign of early menopause."

She had no doubt she was crimson in the face but the fact Malfoy simply made a feeble joke and didn't demand answer made her cringe. She suddenly felt guilt that she'd not felt in quite a while. She was desperate for a change of direction.

"It's that shop there." She pointed to a shop not far behind Malfoy. He looked at it and then back at her. "Stevenson wrote it down in his diary."

The shop was modest and had a dated feel to its exterior that matched the age of the objects that the shop sold. _Arielle's Magical Antiques _wasn't as noticeable compared to Flourish & Blotts and the glittering window displays of the shops that sold the new, up-to-the-minute brooms and cauldrons, but there was certainly a distinguished feel to the place.

Malfoy nodded and swept inside without a word or even a glance back. Hermione felt a feeling of dread as she followed him inside.

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think? Please review this chapter if you liked it as I'm kind of happy with the progress now. We are going to see more and more of Draco's past come to the surface as the story goes along. I'd really appreciate what you think. <strong>


	14. Estranged Relations

**Hello again. As you can probably tell, I've moved this back to the Harry Potter section. It's still based in the Sherlock plot lines but is also essentially a magical world. Also if you've watched the BBC series, you already know the cases and the outcomes (And if you haven't seen it, why on earth not?). I may move it back to crossover when its done. I'm awful indecisive! Again, this isn't really too in-depth with the case but touches more on Hermione's life.  
><strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock.**

* * *

><p>Hermione looked around the shop. There were many old, rather careworn cauldrons from various countries. There was a bookcase with many interesting spell books from centuries long since past. Hermione's fingers itched in their desire to maybe purchase one. They looked interesting. Malfoy was pursuing the jewels in the spell protected case. Some were meant to enhance the hair colour of whoever wore them, some were worn by famous wizard actresses (though very few people knew they had been witches). A few rings were cursed and not for sale. They were just there for people to look at and maybe take as a warning if they should see a necklace or bracelet that resembled it. The shop was filled with all types of magical items from antique wands to the earliest brand of Sneak scopes (which was priced at a hefty 200 Galleons).<p>

Hermione peeked over her shoulder. Malfoy was looking preoccupied and she could hazard a guess it wasn't over whether to buy the enchanted French tea set. She swallowed. Malfoy was clearly angry with her. But, what for, she didn't know. Either he had indeed guessed that she'd questioned Nott or he was annoyed that she was seeing Dean on a regular basis. She couldn't imagine that he'd be particularly interested in her love life or potential suitors. Yes, she was playing her cards close to her chest, but she was simply following his example in life. Dean was a Gryffindor and hadn't done anything overtly offensive towards Malfoy. Apart from typical Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry. On the other hand, the last time she'd alluded to the fact that someone had tried to tell her details of his life in the form of Blaise Zabini, he'd merely laughed. He wasn't telling her what he'd been up to in the previous six years but he wasn't obsessive in keeping all details hidden.

Hermione shook her head. The mission to find out what was going on with Malfoy wasn't going well. With every question answered it seemed, at least ten more were born.

Starting to feel fed up, Hermione strode towards the bookcase. She decided that she would help herself to a book or two. Old magic was always the most interesting. Skimming the shelves, she spotted an old, fairly dusty book entitled: _Dragons: The Heritage in Romania _by Evanna Edwards. Picking it up, she smiled ruefully. It was Charlie Weasley's birthday soon. She wondered if maybe she should purchase it for him and send it as a birthday present. It looked like the kind of book he might enjoy. And maybe it would bridge the gap with the Weasleys. An olive branch. She missed them all. Even Percy.

Flicking through the pages, she noticed some writing in the book that grabbed her attention. In the back of the book, in quill ink, were several Runes. Runes that looked incredibly familiar.

"Malfoy!" She called, spinning around. "Come here!"

Malfoy sauntered over and looked at where she was pointing at. His eyebrows raised and his eyes glinted darkly.

"Are they…?"

"Yes. Without doubt."

Hermione hastily paid for the book and darted out back into Diagon Alley with Malfoy striding alongside her. They hastily ducked into the Leaky Cauldron and sat at a table. There was no-one in particular they knew there, other than two old witches who were arguing over who's turn it was to buy a new cauldron.

Tom the Innkeeper came over to take their order though couldn't help but stare, open-mouthed, at Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy having food and not killing each other in the process. As soon as he was out of earshot, they began to whisper furiously.

"I can't believe I didn't think of it before!" Hermione half exclaimed, half whispered, if such a thing was possible. "I remember reading about this years ago at Hogwarts!"

"Why is it that all your stories begin with a sodding library?" Malfoy asked sardonically. Hermione wasn't even listening, she was so excited.

"These Ancient Runes. They are no longer in syndication because they are used for secrecy sake. They are only found in Romania. Specifically in the areas where Charlie Weasley used to work. With the Dragons."

"And you are sure it's the same?"

"I can't be certain. I'll need to double check. Oh I wish I'd kept that book. I had it with me all the time when I was studying for my Ancient Runes exam!"

"This makes things much more interesting."

"We can decipher them at last."

"Yes, that. And also I can now hedge a bet at what it was Mordecai and Stevenson were up to."

"What?"

"Think about it. Both going to Romania at exactly the same time, coming to the same shop on the same day and sitting on a great deal amount of money than they should reasonably have. That money comes from somewhere. And I'm sure you've heard of the Dragon treasure that is in Romania."

"You think they were stealing?"

"Not stealing. Smuggling. Both had good excuses to go, one an ex-Dragon tamer, one a journalist who specialised in magical creatures. It would have been incredibly easy. _Arielle's Magic Antiques _would have been the perfect drop off."

"You believe they would have a hand in this?"

"Of course. They deal with magical artefacts from all around the world. Just because they don't display it in the window doesn't mean its not there. They'd have to be careful."

Hermione let all this wash over her. It would make so much sense.

"Then why did they die? They both delivered on the same day. They kept their word to whoever is behind this."

"What if one of them took something that wasn't theirs to take? Got a bit too clever and greedy? The people in charge can't work out which one did it so kills both for good measure."

Hermione, ever the pragmatic, narrowed her eyebrows. "We've no proof of that."

"You don't need to have everything researched and written in a text book for it to be true. Sometimes it just is." Malfoy's eyes were dancing with mirth. Hermione sighed with relief in her head. His mind was clearly so preoccupied with this new twist in the tale, he'd forgotten to be annoyed with her.

They ate and talked, or more accurately, Hermione ate and Malfoy talked even when she made it clear she wasn't really listening. They left The Leaky Cauldron with a new zeal.

* * *

><p>The happiness that Hermione felt was purely short-lived. She located the book she had read the History of Ancient Runes on within a few days and managed to locate another book on Romanian runes. However, when she matched the Runes that had been upon the Vault, she could only decipher numbers. They weren't words; just numbers. Numbers that made next to no sense. It seemed to be a code within a code. She actually wanted to cry with disappointment.<p>

Malfoy had not taken the setback particularly well. There were now more explosions in the kitchen at night than ever, he seemed to be constantly pacing and he was smoking worse than ever. Hermione had to hoover the air with her wand constantly and had ever resorted to putting a wet towel one floor to stop the smoke seeping into her bedroom.

Hermione woke one morning and went into the kitchen for breakfast. (The cauldron had thankfully been moved to the stove for the time being.) Malfoy was drinking coffee and smoking yet another cigarette. Hermione waved her wand to open the window. She wanted at least a little bit of clean air in the room.

"I thought you'd run out of cigarettes last night?"

"I did. Luna got me some more this morning."

Hermione twisted her mouth. She'd have to have a word with Luna about how buying teabags for them was helpful but feeding Malfoy's habit definitely wasn't.

"You need to stop this."

"I'm stressed."

"A cloud of smoke is hanging permanently over the living room!"

"I'm _very _stressed?" Malfoy offered as an alternative. Hermione buttered her toast bitterly. The morning owl swooped in through the open window and dropped _The Daily Prophet _on the table. Hermione slipped five Knuts into the purse on its leg and it swooped back out again. Malfoy seemed to be in another one of his thinking phases so Hermione picked up the paper and shook it. There was nothing that interesting in the pages. She did falter at a picture of Harry and Ginny waving in one of the personal pages. It seemed they'd officially announced the news of their second pregnancy. Hermione inhaled deeply as she looked at the couple's smiling faces. They looked so happy. Hermione turned the page quickly. She didn't want to upset herself in front of Malfoy. It was soon pushed from her mind. Another article had grabbed her attention.

In the society section, there was a picture of Narcissa Malfoy. Wearing an elegant suit and matching hat, she was photographed walking down the street and looking quite eager to avoid the cameras. She seemed to be pulling down her hat in an attempt to shield her face. Hermione read the small article below. It was some drivel about the suit she was wearing. It was apparently a new best seller in _Gladrags Wizardwear_. Hermione knew she shouldn't but decided she would try nonetheless.

"Malfoy? Your mother is in the paper." She watched as Malfoy seemed to slowly snap out of his thought and slowly move his eyes from his coffee to her own eyes.

"Really?" His tone was even and a little deadpan. Hermione handed over the paper. Malfoy inspected it. She watched his face closely. To her amazement, his expression didn't change at all. He simply read the paper and then put it down. "She's dyed her hair again. It doesn't suit her." And he went back to his coffee.

Hermione sat there in utter bewilderment. "Have you spoken to her at all lately?"

Malfoy seemed to think. "I sent her Christmas card in December. It seemed polite."

"She's your _mother!" _

"Everyone has a _mother. _You have to cut the apron strings eventually." It wasn't even that he sounded like he hated her. His tone was complete indifference.

"You should keep in touch or at least sound interested in her well being!"

"Oh yeah? When was the last time you spoke to _your _parents, Granger?"

Hermione froze. That was a question she had no answer for and didn't want to answer either. That was a sore subject for her and Malfoy knew that. How he knew it God only knows but the nasty glint in his eyes, the one that reminded her all too well of the old Malfoy, told her he knew all too well.

Hermione dropped her toast onto her plate and stormed out the front door. Starting the working day in a bad mood was never a good sign.

Hermione spent the rest of the day distracted. Her parents were never far from her mind. Or far from her home. Her parents lived about half an hour away or one turn of the heel with apparition. Yet they may as well still be in Australia without their memories for all the time she saw them.

Her parents had always been confused by her. Ever since the official from Hogwarts came to their house when she was eleven years old. Their own daughter. A witch? They didn't have a magical bone in their body and yet their only child was capable of magic. They'd been shocked and maybe a bit scared but also proud. It was testament to how original and unique Hermione was. They were clever people who wanted a clever daughter. They named her after a character in Shakespeare's "A Winter's Tale" - of course they wanted a clever child. And they got one. And they were proud.

For the first few years, they'd immersed themselves in her world. Trying to understand all this new world had to offer. They ventured into Diagon Alley with her for her school things and supported her with all they had.

She loved them so much. So much that she had addled their minds to keep them safe. And it worked. They were safe and no harm came to them. But once the memories were restored she'd had to explain why it was she did it in the first place. Her mother had been so hysterical and her father so angry at why their own daughter would do that to them that she had told them everything. The war, Voldemort, Muggleborns like her. Everything. And everything changed.

They forgave her. They said so. But magic became taboo. Certain witches and wizards were willing to torture and kill their beautiful daughter just because they themselves weren't magic. Their child had been tortured and nearly killed fighting for her right to just live in that world. And if that was the price that magic had then they didn't want it. They didn't want any of it. And that meant that any mention of magic in their house would only caused tears and upset.

Hermione tried to keep the magical aspect of her life to herself at first. Whenever her and Ron visited, they left their wands behind and tried to keep to non-magical topics. This often led to awkward silences as Ron didn't know anything about Muggle life really and Muggle events didn't truly impact on Hermione's that much anymore either.

Ron soon got tired of it and refused to go. We're wizards, he argued, it's who we are! We can't be anything else! And for once, Hermione had agreed. She was a witch. A good witch. She loved magic and she was glad she was blessed with the ability. Times had been hard but they'd won. It was all okay now. Couldn't they leave the past just there?

Her visits soon died out and so did her parents as her old home had many wizarding qualities. Like spell books everywhere and a Floo Network in proper use. By the time, Ron and Hermione were on the edge of their relationship, she barely contacted them at all. She sent them letters at times but then they always asked why she didn't just phone? She'd bought a mobile just for them but that only led to more awkward silences when she didn't know what to talk about. The phone was soon at the back of her drawer unused and with barely any missed calls.

She'd been foolish enough to believe that in integrating herself with the Weasley family, the family that had helped bring her up into womanhood, that it made up for neglecting the ones she left behind. That hadn't turned out well and now she was alone. Draco Malfoy was her only constant companion. Something she never thought she'd say.

The very big difference between her and Malfoy was that she actually cared that she and her parents were strained at best. The guilt ate away at her everyday. The amount of letters she'd written to her parents, telling them how sorry she was about how things had turned out, didn't bare mentioning. Malfoy was almost cruel in the way he regarded his mother who loved Malfoy beyond all reason.

She looked out of the window. It was hard being forever curious.

* * *

><p>Hermione returned home that night, feeling dejected and tired. All the more embarrassing considering she had barely got any work done. Not compared to her usual amount anyway. She closed the front door. The stairs leading up to her flat seemed almost like a death march. It probably would be if she inhaled anymore cigarette smoke. Sighing, her eyes flitted to the door beside the stairs. Luna's flat.<p>

Without a second thought, she strode to the door and knocked briskly. A second later, Luna appeared at the door. She was wearing a jumper and jeans yet was wearing a long, haphazardly knitted scarf of nearly every colour Hermione had ever seen. Her expression was vacant.

"Oh hello Hermione." She said in her usual bored yet dreamy accent.

"Hi Luna," Hermione smiled, "may I come in?"

"Oh yes. I was just about to make some tea." Hermione stepped inside. Luna's flat was a lot like theirs. Only instead of cauldron bubbling everywhere and a strong smell of smoke, there were wind charms hanging all over the ceiling. It also smelt an awful lot like cocoa. It was a warm welcoming smell.

Luna moved to the kitchen. "What tea would you like? I've made some of my Dad's special kind of tea if you'd like some."

Hermione remembered all too well Xenophilius' attempt at a beverage from when they had visited Luna's home on the hunt for Horcruxes. It had tasted terrible. It was however one of the better parts of that day. They'd been captured by Snatchers not long after.

"Do you have any Twinning's?" Luna nodded and fished out the box from the back of the cupboard. "How've you been Luna?"

"Oh I'm fine. I've been writing a lot lately for the Quibbler. I think I'm generating more interest. The publishers don't laugh in my face when they read the articles anymore." Hermione winced.

"That's lovely." She managed. She looked from Luna's figure and towards the living room which was open plan and in clear view. The fire was burning strong in the fireplace and spitting nicely. The red walls looked even richer with the added atmosphere. There were no ornaments on the iron mantelpiece. Instead were a selection of empty vials. Some were from various potions and some were from glass bottles of Muggle drinks. They were all different colours and shone from the firelight. The sofa and armchair looked moth eaten but comfy. On the wall, she saw a photograph of when they were about to board the Hogwarts Express that last year. It was emotional as Hermione, Luna and Ginny were returning but Neville, Harry and Ron were going straight into Auror training. They were all clutching each other, looking teary. The six of them together about to torn apart.

"I remember that photo." Hermione said. Her voice sounded scratchy.

Luna placed their tea on the table. Hermione's a rich brown, hers a deep purple. "Yes. Me too."

"I was a wreck." Hermione mused. "I don't think me and Ginny stopped crying all the way there."

"No, you didn't. Ginny's nose matched her hair when we arrived."

Hermione chuckled. "After the year was over, it was going to be so different. We would never be separated again."

"I didn't happen though, did it?" Luna mused gently.

Hermione's eyes flicked from the photograph of the young Luna smiling serenely to the Luna before her. All in all, they were the same except this Luna looked more resigned and subdued. It made her chest ache.

"I'm so sorry… we should tried harder to keep in touch."

"It's okay."

"No it's not! We just seemed to… fracture!"

Luna took a sip of her tea and inhaled gently. "War brings people together. We were all we had so we clung on. But life pushes people apart and time keeps them apart."

Hermione nodded sadly. Was that not what had happened to her and the boys?

"Did you keep in touch with Neville?"

"No." She said simply. "He was so busy, I decided to leave him be."

"I'm sure he'd love to hear from you. He seems… well, like us."

"Maybe. It would be nice." Luna sipped her tea as Hermione did the same. "I would like to see maybe Malfoy get along with the others. He's very nice really."

Hermione tried not to laugh into her tea. "I think that would be asking a little too much Luna."

"Perhaps. But he has changed. In all the letters I wrote him, you could see he had."

"Letters?" Hermione's attention was caught. "What letters?"

"I wrote him some letters while we were at Hogwarts. I wanted to speak to him."

"Why?"

"Well. When I saw he hadn't come back, I felt bad. He was very clever after all. It was a shame he didn't finish his education. And he was quite kind when I was in his cellar during the war. When I'd had the Cruciatus curse once, he crept down with this potion. Told me not to ask questions and just drink it. After I did, the pain in my body went away. He warned me not to tell anyone and left. I wrote to him, offering some kind of friendship."

"Did he write back?"

"After my fourth attempt, yes. He was very polite. Kept asking why I insisted on bothering him and was I trying to make him feel bad. I kept writing nonetheless. Soon he started writing back."

"What did he say? What was he like?" Hermione was leaning forward in eagerness.

"Cold and formal. Didn't write much about his family. But when Daddy died, he sent me a letter, saying he was sorry. And I think he meant it."

"How long did he write for?"

"He stopped after he quit the Ministry. Went travelling. But he sent me a letter before he came here. I told him about the flats and he turned up on my doorstep. He was still formal and aloof but not as cruel as he had been once."

"Did he say why he came back?"

"Just wanted a fresh start to live in peace. He didn't say anything else and I didn't ask."

Hermione nodded as this information slipped in. Still no further about where he'd been but new background nonetheless.

Luna watched as the old clock on the kitchen wall ticked. Hermione watched with her.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"No. It's just it's my birthday tomorrow."

Hermione snapped her head back. "Your birthday? Why didn't you say?!"

"I don't normally do anything," Luna mused. "Not many people are around to celebrate."

Hermione's gut twisted again. That was the thing with Luna. Even though she genuinely didn't mean to, she had a horrible way of making you look at yourself and realising the things you've done wrong. Well, Hermione was nothing if not a woman who liked to right her wrongs.

"Come on." She stood up.

"Where are we going?" Luna asked.

"Shopping."

"I have clothes."

"Not for clothes; ingredients. We're gonna make a cake."

* * *

><p>Hermione stumbled on one of the steps and giggled madly before shushing the step as if it could made her quieter. The shopping had gone very well. Luna had been enthralled to be in a Muggle supermarket and had looked in fascination at the magazines. Hermione had located a book on cake making and they went around the aisles for the ingredients. She knew very well that she could have just bought a cake but she felt the urge to actually put some sweat into it. If she made it with Luna, the sentiment would make it more special. It was a childish idea but she was determined.<p>

They'd got waylaid in the alcohol aisle. Luna had picked up two bottles of wine. The glass was a colour she didn't have on her mantelpiece and she thought they'd go nicely. Plus she liked wine. Hermione hadn't been so sure but bought nonetheless. If it made Luna happy, why not?

They'd enjoyed a glass each as they'd got to work measuring floor and butter. Luna was surprisingly good at whisking the mixture into a cream when Hermione's arm had started to ache. They'd spooned out the contents and put it in the oven. They'd helped themselves to more wine as they waited.

By the time the egg timer went off to indicate it was done, Hermione was having trouble controlling a fit of the giggles and Luna was looking a bit wobbly. After Luna had accidentally shot a spell at the wall in the attempt to decorate the cake, they'd decided to do it in the morning.

Hermione would have been embarrassed had she not been in such a giggly mood. Her stamina for alcohol wasn't good anyway and she had drunk her bottle and some of Luna's quite quickly. Now, walking up the stairs was literally an uphill challenge.

Finally on the landing, she rummaged through her bag for her key. It was even more difficult with her co-ordination all over the place but she had her charmed bag too. So now, her arm was practically the entire way inside, touching her wand and a few books but unable to find the damn keys. She didn't find them anyway. The front door suddenly flew open.

Malfoy looked livid. His hair was more mussed than ever like he'd literally been pulling at it.

"Where've you been?" He barked.

Hermione would normally be insulted. Instead, she burst out laughing.

"Oh, Malfoy. Are you going to ground me?" She asked cheekily, still laughing. Malfoy went from livid to irritatingly confused.

"Where. Were. You?"

"Downstairs, nosey! I paid Luna a visit." She marched past him but stumbled a little and fell into the armchair.

"Have you been drinking?" He sounded confused and if Hermione was right, a little amused.

"Nothing gets past you detective man!" Hermione said, in a sing-song sort of voice. Malfoy frowned.

"Why were you drinking?"

"It's Luna's birthday tomorrow. And I'm a crap friend. So we had wine."

Malfoy slowly walked to the kitchen as Hermione hummed happily, her shoes falling off as she swung her feet back and forth. When he came back, he had a potion in his hand.

"Drink this. It will make you tired so you can sleep it off."

Hermione drank the potion and handed the empty vial back to Malfoy. Almost immediately, she started to feel tired. Her eyes were so heavy, she didn't open them as she felt herself being lifted up. The smell of Malfoy's scent was stronger than ever as her head fell onto his shoulder. She breathed it in. He smelt like linen, shower gel and… male. It smelt wonderful. She could feel herself being lowered onto something soft and felt a brief sense of loss as the scent left her nose before she succumbed to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think? Throw a few words in the box below and let me know<strong>


	15. Celebrations and Confrontations

**Thank you all so much for the feedback and the story alerts. I've decided to update quickly this time as I still have the ideas fresh in my head. I'm glad people like the blending of two worlds. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock. **

* * *

><p>Hermione opened her eyes… and quickly realised it was a bad idea and shut them again. It was too bright in the room (she'd forgotten to draw the curtains) and her head was reminding her, lest she ever forget, the reason why she rarely drank alcohol.<p>

Hermione turned on her side in an attempt to block out the light from the window and curled in a ball. She'd never felt such relief that she didn't have work today. Her standards would have slipped to an all-time low and she couldn't bare the humiliation of taking sick leave due to a hangover. She'd never pulled a sick day in her life and she didn't intend to start now.

After ten minutes of trying as hard as she could to go back to sleep, she admitted defeat and got up. She was still in her work robes from yesterday and felt creased all over. She tried to remember the night before. She remembered Luna and the cake and infamous wine. And climbing the stairs, laughing to herself. She supposed she should be grateful she didn't trip on her heels and fall down the stairs. She was utterly graceless under the influence. And… oh. Malfoy had opened the door. She shrunk back to the bed. Her idea of going to have a hot shower wasn't so appealing now.

Of all the people in the world she never wanted to see her drunk, Malfoy was number one. (Her grandparents a close second.) She remembered he'd been… angry when he'd opened the door. She furrowed her brow then remembered her headache and relaxed her face. Why had he been angry? Had he been worried about her? Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, thinking. No. That was a little unlikely. This was Malfoy. Malfoy, who was obsessed with the answers to impossible cases and liked to have the upper hand at all times. He was probably annoyed that he didn't know what was going on for once. Yeah, that was it. Rather amusing really as if he'd just gone and asked Luna, he would have found her, stirring cake mix.

Summoning up the Gryffindor courage that she was so proud of, she straightened up and grabbed the door handle. She opened the door quickly before she could change her mind and marched straight for the bathroom, refusing to take her eyes off the door. She shut the bathroom door as soon as she was inside. She hadn't even looked to see if Malfoy was up or even in the apartment. Sighing, she turned on the shower and began to strip off her clothing. She would deal with the world once she felt like a human being again.

* * *

><p>Hermione emerged into the living room half an hour later. She was washed, dried and wearing new clothes. She felt a little better, thanks to some Headache Replenishing Potion in the bathroom cabinet. It was quite handy having an ex-Potions expert under the same roof. Always meant they were well stocked for anything from extreme blood loss to hangovers.<p>

Malfoy was stood at the window, looking down at the street below. His hair looked its normal immaculate self once more. He looked deep in thought. Hermione couldn't help but feel grateful about this. When he was so preoccupied, he rarely found time to tease her. She let out a breath and went to make some coffee.

She was half way through her toast and on her second coffee when he finally spoke.

"We need to get in touch with Charlie Weasley."

Hermione dropped her toast and looked at him in bemusement.

"Sorry?"

"Charlie Weasley." Malfoy strode from the window and towards the kitchen. "He lived in Romania for a few years and has worked with Dragons there first hand. He's back for a holiday with the Weasleys this week so we need to get him alone and ask him." Malfoy had both hands on the table and was facing Hermione. The steely look in his eye showed that he meant business. Hermione took a tentative sip of coffee and cleared her throat.

"Malfoy, I'm not sure that will work."

"Why?" His voice was calm, maybe even genuinely interested, though Hermione doubted it.

"Well, your family and the Weasleys… well, you pretty much hate each other on principle. He's never going to talk to you and be civil. Let alone help you."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Well, you're forgetting my biggest asset."

"What's that? Your sparkling wit?"

"Nope." He said, popping the 'p' with a smile on his face that promised trouble. It took Hermione a moment.

"Oh, no. No. You want _me _to try and convince him?"

"Well, obviously."

Hermione looked at him dumbfounded. "Are you forgetting something by any chance? I broke up with his brother! I'm hardly going to be a guest of honour at the Burrow!"

"I'm not suggesting facing the family! We get him on his own and get him to look at the Runes. He might be able to work out the code."

Hermione dithered. Malfoy had a really good point, of all the people who might understand Ancient Romanian Runes, Charlie Weasley was the best bet. A selfish part of her though desperately didn't want to meet with the second eldest Weasley. Charlie was a good-natured, kind man but no doubt didn't feel particularly friendly towards her. If Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were anything to go by anyway. And, if she approached him with Malfoy in tow, the chances of her living with him being exposed were considerably higher. She still wasn't ready for everyone knowing that side of her life yet.

"How could we get him alone? He's either at work or at the Burrow."

"What, doesn't he eat?" Malfoy looked exasperated. He rolled his eyes and leaned even closer to her. "Two men are dead. We are being paid to find out why."

"We're actually getting paid to find out how they got into Gringotts, unless you've forgotten."

"Irrelevant. We're involved and this needs settling. Your personal life or former one is nothing to do with this. I thought you'd moved on!"

"I have!"

"Not that much, clearly." He snapped. Hermione scowled. She hated how small he made her feel. Malfoy sighed and looked at her with the eyes that seemed to x-ray. "I know for absolute certainty that you are not a coward. Don't let them turn you into one." They were his parting words, as he stalked out of the kitchen and down the stairs. The front door slammed shut.

Hermione shifted in her seat. She actually would have taken the teasing now, come to think of it.

* * *

><p>It took about two hours alone in the flat before Hermione was hunting for things to do. It came to her attention that she'd never been left alone in the flat for this long. Without the bangs of the cauldrons on the stove, or the general presence of Malfoy, it almost felt a little eerie. The clocks ticking seemed to echo in her ears in that way that only irritates you when its too quiet in general.<p>

Hermione tried reading a book and enjoying the quiet. Lord knows, she missed it the other hundred times there had been noise in the flat. But the book couldn't maintain her attention. She didn't want to think about the fact that Malfoy had a point or the fact he was very likely angry at her yet again. She was sick of feeling like she was in the wrong.

At lunchtime, she ventured down the stairs and knocked on Luna's door. The door opened and Luna was dressed in a green dress and had her hair up. She looked rather lovely despite the distinct look of fatigue on her face.

"Oh hello Hermione." Her voice was still light but it was quieter. It seemed Luna didn't have any medical potions in her bathroom.

"How's your head?" Hermione asked sympathetically.

"A little heavier than it was yesterday." Luna replied matter-of-factly. Hermione noticed that the wine bottles were stood amongst her collection on the mantelpiece.

"Happy Birthday." Hermione chirped and pulling Luna into a hug.

"Thank you. I still haven't iced the cake. I haven't been up to it."

"I'll do that." Hermione said briskly, opening the fridge door and scooping up the sponge. It did look a lovely golden brown. All the more impressive considering the amount of wine consumed while making it. "I'll decorate it myself. Come up to the flat at about four and we'll make a tea of it."

Luna smiled sweetly. "That would be nice but I wouldn't mind helping."

"You just relax. It's your birthday, after all. Do whatever you like. I'll see to this."

Hermione dashed out of the door and back up the stairs. She didn't know why but she felt duty bound to make sure Luna had a good day. Another prickling feeling of guilt was making her head fuzzy and, if icing a cake took her mind off it, all the better.

As it turned out, icing a cake the Muggle way was a lot harder than Hermione had thought. She felt that as they had cooked it the Muggle way then she should ice it that way too. Getting the icing even had proved tricky and, even with the finished result, it looked thicker on some sides than others. A quick wave of her wand would have solved the problem but she decided that Luna would appreciate it more. Even if it made her cringe to know that something she had attempted didn't turn out perfect. She did break her rule to cast a spell for the icing to change colour though. White was too dull for Luna. Instead she cast it so the cake had a section of icing with every colour she'd ever heard of. It looked like an explosion in a paint factory. It was very Luna.

Hermione had another way to ensure Luna had a nice day. Malfoy wasn't the only one who could be sneaky at times…

Luna turned up at the door at about half past four. Hermione was happy to note there was more colour in her cheeks. Maybe she'd taken the time to have a nap. She was even happier when Luna's face split into a dreamy smile at the sight of her cake.

"Oh it's lovely. The colours go so well."

Hermione thought that the colours clashed horribly but wasn't going to argue when Luna was so happy.

The two girls shared cups of tea as they chatted animatedly. Hermione kept glancing at the clock in the same manner Luna had last night. Any minute now.

They were on their second cup when the knock on the door came. Hermione shot out of her seat and pulled Luna with her.

"Is that Malfoy?" Luna asked placidly, clearly not catching onto the excitement on Hermione's face.

"No." Hermione smiled and opened the door so she was behind it and Luna was the only person in view. She did watch though as Luna's eyes widened a little and two spots of pink appeared on her cheeks.

Neville Longbottom was stood in the door. Despite all the years of maturity and the chivalry he displayed both at the Battle of Hogwarts and in working for an Auror, one look at Luna and he was seventeen all over again. He was taller and leaner than before and his hair was shorter. He looked quite handsome in his own little way. Except he was still wearing that god-awful cardigan. Oh well, Hermione shrugged, it's Neville.

Hermione knew that getting Ginny, Harry and Ron to this flat, where there was every chance Malfoy could come back, would be asking too much. It was also very short-notice, not that it would have made any difference. She knew though with Neville that his little crush on Luna had never really gone away. At least she could reunite half the people in Luna's photograph.

"Hi, Luna." Neville sounded as though he'd been running as his breath seemed a little laboured. "Happy Birthday."

Luna hadn't moved. For one awful second, Hermione wondered if maybe this wasn't a very good surprise. Luna and Neville hadn't seen each other for a long time. What if Luna wasn't so quick to forget Neville's departure from her life. But slowly Luna inched forward and, without a word, put her arms around his middle in a hug. Luna was so small the top of her head barely touched under Neville's chin but he embraced her and rest his cheek on her head instead. Hermione was torn between crying and giggling at how Neville had to squat down slightly just to do that.

Hermione sat Neville down and watched from the kitchen as Luna and Neville began to talk about everything and anything. Neville's present to Luna was a sapphire eagle pendant. Apparently he had bought it for her years ago but never got around to give it to her. Luna seemed delighted.

The moment teetered on awkwardness when the door to the flat opened and Malfoy stepped inside. Neville seemed to go rather stiff and Hermione held her breath. Only Luna seemed to not notice the awkward tension.

"Look what Neville got me for my birthday." Luna smiled, holding out the necklace for Malfoy to see. Malfoy inclined his head.

"It's Luna's birthday." Hermione decided to announce this so as to maybe get Malfoy to understand that smart-arsed quips and generally insulting people wasn't a good idea. Malfoy raised his eyebrows.

"Oh." He reached into his pocket and seemed to root around in them. His coat seemed to have pockets that had the same charm as Hermione's beaded bag. Or so it seemed anyway. Eventually he drew out a small pouch, looked at it, seemed to deduce that it was what he was looking for and then dropped it in front of Luna onto the table. "Happy Birthday Lovegood."

Luna opened the pouch and Hermione saw, as her eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline, that it was filled with Galleons. There must have been two months rent in there alone. Malfoy didn't stick around for Luna's thank you and made a bee-line for his bedroom. Hermione moved quickly though and got to him before he entered his room. They were far enough away to be able to talk without being heard.

"Wait! Where've you been?"

"Out."

"Any specific location?"

"Not particularly." Hermione rolled her eyes. He really wasn't a great conversationalist at times.

"All right." She sighed. "I'll help you get in touch with Charlie."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows as though sceptical. Hermione stared back. "Good." He smirked eventually. "He's planning on visiting Diagon Alley tomorrow. We'll catch up with him then."

Hermione groaned. "Please don't tell me you've been stalking him."

"It's not stalking; its trailing."

"Call it what you like, you'll get a criminal record for either one."

"I believe that ship has long since sailed for me, Granger." Malfoy moved again to go into his bedroom.

"Wait!" Hermione put her hand in front of the entrance to block him. "Do you want… um, would you like to join us?"

Malfoy looked at her and flicked his eyes back towards the kitchen. "I think I'll pass."

"I think Luna would like it."

"Lovegood likes Nargles, whatever the hell they are. Besides I cant promise I'd be good company. In fact, I _wouldn't _promise."

"It wouldn't hurt you to interact with some people on friendly basis, you know!"

"What use is friendly? I tolerate people; I don't like them. And the feeling is usually completely mutual." He went into his room and this time Hermione didn't stop him. The door shut sharply behind him.

* * *

><p>Hermione waited patiently in the darkest corner of the Apothecary. The smell of batspawn and gurdy roots was a little overpowering and Hermione had to squeeze her eyes shut to stop them watering. She noted that they had jacked up the price of Unicorn hair again. Sign of the times.<p>

Malfoy had questioned her all morning as to where Charlie went where the other Weasley family might not follow. Quiddich shop was a no-no as Ron, George, Bill and Ginny always dived in to see the latest releases and new brand of brooms. Flourish and Blotts was normally busy too as Mrs. Weasley was a keen collector of cookery books and Mr. Weasley was as keen on reading as Hermione. Charlie was a keen potions maker on the side. Away from Hogwarts and Snape's constant criticism, he had developed something of a flare for it. So Hermione waited and prayed that he would duck in alone as the smell alone was rather off-putting.

Luna's birthday tea had been a success. Despite Malfoy's refusal to join (and the fact that Hermione was concluding that he may be allergic to happy occasions), Hermione was satisfied she had done a good job. She'd cut up the cake, much to Luna's disappointment and was relieved to find that it tasted quite nice. And the extra icing actually worked well with Neville having second helping and any leftover icing the girls didn't want. They hadn't talked about the case. Not only because Luna was there but because they simply didn't want to. Neville seemed to have accepted that Hermione and Malfoy were actually helping him so didn't pry too deeply. Hermione had yawned a little and complained of tiredness (she wasn't at all tired) and suggested Luna show Neville her little flat while she 'napped'. A little time alone would do them good, she reasoned as they scuttled downstairs. What they did in that alone time… well, that wasn't really her business was it?

Her revenue was broken when she spotted the unmistakeable red hair. She thanked Merlin that the Apothecary was dark and the corner she was in was even darker. Charlie Weasley looked around and went to a shelf on the right, looking intently at ingredients.

Hermione had to act quickly. Any of the Weasleys may decide to pop in at any moment. Subtly, she slid out of her hiding place and tapped Charlie's shoulder.

Charlie turned around and very nearly dropped the jar of frogspawn he'd been inspecting. Hermione immediately put her finger to her lips and beckoned him back to the dark corner. Charlie could only follow in shock. He thankfully regained his voice once they were out of sight.

"Hermione? What on Earth are you-"

"I need your help." Hermione knew it was best to get to the point. "It's important."

"Merlin, Hermione. I mean, how are you-"

"Are you with your family?"

"… Yeah. Yeah, we're having a day out."

"Come to room 20 at the Leaky Cauldron as soon as you can."

"Mia-"

"Please, Charlie! If you still care about me at all, you'll come. If only for ten minutes! My friend will be there and needs to talk with you. Privately. It will make all the difference in the world for us."

Charlie stood there, looking confused, worried and frankly baffled to see Hermione at all. "Okay, I'll try my best."

"Thank you!" Hermione grabbed his arms and squeezed before shooting off out of the shop, leaving Charlie wondering what on Earth had just happened.

* * *

><p>Hermione sat by the window, looking out at London down below. The room was relatively comfortable. It had desk and two chairs, a fireplace, and a distinctly business like feel. Tom the Innkeeper had mentioned it was where Cornelius Fudge had talked to Harry after he had come to the Leaky Cauldron the night he blew up his Aunt Marge. It was something of a tourist attraction to holidaying witches and wizards.<p>

There was a knock on the door and Charlie Weasley appeared from behind it. He shut it carefully and walked into the room.

"Thank you for coming." There was undisguised relief in Hermione's voice. She honestly thought he wouldn't or worse get caught by his family, trying to sneak away.

"I haven't got long. What's this all about Hermione?"

"I'm sorry for all this cloak and dagger routine but it is urgent."

"Are you in trouble?" Charlie asked immediately.

"I'm not, no. I'm working on case and I need your help. Concerning a code."

"A case? What like, a detective one?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

"But… you work in the Magical Creature office. That's nothing to do with you, that's more Ron and Harry's department."

"I'm helping someone. He's something of a… private detective."

"More of a consulting." Malfoy announced, entering the room though a side door. Hermione breathed deeply.

Charlie went paler than Hermione had ever seen him. He looked with wide eyes at Malfoy to Hermione and back again. He seemed to have lost his ability to speak. Malfoy stood there rather calmly. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that he was rather enjoying rendering one of the Weasleys speechless.

"What… is _he _doing here?" Charlie demanded.

"He's the person who needs your help." Hermione explained quietly.

"Not a chance." Charlie turned to leave but Malfoy lazily flicked his wand in the direction of the door. The sounds of the locks snapped into place echoed around the room. Charlie tried the door but it wasn't going to open.

"Charlie, please-"

"Let me out! I'm not helping that prick!"

"It's not just him, its both of us." Hermione pleaded. "Its about the Gringotts case."

"I don't want to involved in anything to do with him. In fact, what the hell are you doing with him Hermione?"

"Long story," Hermione wasn't going to get into it now. "Two men are dead. And we need to know why. All we need is a little help from you."

"Then leave it to Neville!"

"Neville is lost on the case. The whole department is! If we carry on at this rate there is no way in a million years we'll catch who did this."

"So they turn to a former Death Eater?" He asked, with disgust.

"Charlie!" Hermione snapped, her patience starting to give way. "We are so close. _So close! _I can feel it. If you help us learn about Romania and the treasure that is out there then we are so much closer to solving this. Please, if not for me, then for the two dead men."

Charlie breathed deeply. He seemed to be battling with himself.

"Why is Malfoy involved in this?"

"Because he's brilliant. He can read a crime scene like a short story. I don't know how, don't ask me, I don't know. But he's actually trying to help. I've worked with him I've seen him in action. If anything untoward was going on, I'd know. And I'd report him myself. Charlie, you are a decent man. I wouldn't get you involved if I didn't trust that it was right. And I know you can help. I want to solve this case. I'm involved now. I have to."

"No, you don't Hermione! This is a dangerous world. You've got your job, you've got a good life."

"Maybe I'm just not done making a difference."

"You're on the Chocolate Frog Collectors Card! What more do you want?"

"To feel like I'm still worth something." Hermione widened her eyes. She hadn't meant to say that. It had slipped out. And no doubt Malfoy had heard. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her neck. Charlie looked at her and his anger and suspicion seemed to melt away.

"Mia, of course, you are worth something." Hermione didn't want to cry so took steady breaths. Charlie was a very kind, very calm man (unless Malfoy was involved) and somehow being in front of him once again made Hermione think back to how things used to be. A sense of loss was building up inside her. Honesty was clear what was needed here.

"I don't know why I care so much. Maybe because it's a challenge. Maybe because I've got some fight left in me that needs to be used. Or maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment. I just… want to keep helping. But I need your help in order to do that." Charlie still looked like he was struggling. Hermione sighed. "If you honestly can't get passed that then we'll leave you be." She went to turn away when Charlie heaved a sigh.

"Alright." Hermione snapped her head back to look at him. "I'll help."

"You will?"

"I'm doing this for you. I don't give a shit about him." He pointed at Malfoy who was standing with his arms folded.

"Fine by me." Malfoy quipped.

Hermione quickly showed Charlie the copies of the Runes and the background they had found out on Mordecai and Stevenson. Charlie stared at them in fascination.

"The only treasure that's truly sacred within the Wizarding World in Romania has to be the Dragon Treasure."

Charlie concluded eventually.

Hermione and Malfoy nodded.

"There are wizards out there, who dedicate their lives to the preservation of the legend. The treasure can range from anything. Could be golden goblets, sapphire encrusted cauldrons, mountains of rubies. I saw once on an expedition. It was breathtaking. They have special powers to change form. Unregistered Animagi. It's how they secure secrecy.

"Many wizards and witches have started in the past few years to start selling the riches overseas. The quality of the finery will get you a good price but the legend and story behind it makes it almost priceless. They could make over 100 million Galleons for one tiny piece of it. We've tried so many times to get to the root of it but it was next to hopeless.

"Some pieces of treasure though were sacred. Not for sale, not even for all the riches in the world. If one of the two men took that, it is no wonder they are dead."

"What of the Runes?"

Charlie looked at them closely. "I recognise these. This is truly Ancient Runes. I was taught to read them in Romania."

"They are numbers we know this. But what's the code."

Charlie thought for a moment. "As they are in London, it will be based upon a book." He pointed to the first symbol. "This number eighty-five. Page 85. And this is a number one. First letter."

Hermione nodded, her eyes wide at this. "What is the book?"

"I've no idea. It will be a well-protected secret. Only the protectors of the Romanian treasure would know it."

Malfoy nodded. Hermione knew that although still not able to break the code, they were now so much closer.

"Thank you Weasley. It has been interesting." Malfoy had unlocked the door and strolled out without a backward glance. Hermione picked up the parchments and folded them away.

"Thank you so much Charlie." The atmosphere was awkward. Charlie looked at her.

"I haven't seen you for so long. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Ron's your brother. I get it."

"We all miss you. Everyone. No one says it but we all feel it."

"If no-one says it, I doubt it's true."

"What happened, Mia? I mean, you and Ron…"

"Please don't. It's over. I made my choice."

"And this business with Malfoy? What the hell?"

"He needs someone to reign him in at times. That's my job."

"He's trouble."

"Who isn't?" Hermione looked at Charlie evenly. "I take it you're going to tell Ron you saw me?"

Charlie went quiet. "No. I better not. I'd just have to explain about Malfoy and, well, I can't explain something I don't understand."

Hermione hadn't been expecting that. But the relief to have her privacy protected a bit longer nearly made her weak.

"Thank you." She went to the door.

"Just," Charlie blurted out, "be wary Hermione. I don't trust him. And regardless of what went on, I don't want you hurt or in danger."

Hermione gave a nod. She'd heard that warning so many times before it was getting repetitive. She left the room and walked a little numbly down the hall.

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><p><strong>What do you think? Write down in the little box below and let me know. <strong>


	16. Regretful Recollections

**Hello. Not much to say here. This is mainly just a filler chapter but a little important as it goes back to Hermione's past and makes a bit clearer why her relationship with Ron fell apart. Hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock**

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><p>Hermione did not go back to Baker Street right away. She didn't want to face Malfoy's furious pacing, babbling conspiracy theories and new elaborate plans.<p>

She walked out of the Leaky Cauldron and back into Diagon Alley. The cobbled streets were busy with shoppers. It was the last days of August and children were returning to Hogwarts in need of bigger robes. Or first years out to get their first wands. So many people were preoccupied with their own business, mothers wrestling to keep all their bags under control while consulting shopping lists, that Hermione seemed to drift past them all, invisible.

Hermione smiled wistfully. She should be feeling happy. Although Charlie hadn't out rightly deciphered the code, he had pointed them in the direction they needed. No doubt Malfoy would somehow manage to work out which book they needed. Yet somehow a sense of deflation and melancholy had overcome her. Seeing Charlie had reminded her of the love of the Weasley family. Yes, the rest of the family probably wouldn't be quite so warm yet she was reminded once more of what it was she had lost.

In fairness, the past couple of weeks hadn't affected her as deeply as it had once before. She no longer cried silently in her office at the unfairness of it all and she no longer had to endure that shoebox of a flat. In all other aspects she was quite content; happy even. Yet she still not immune to pangs of sorrow. Walking along Diagon Alley reminded her of the visits she took with the Weasleys to collect her school things when she herself was at Hogwarts.

Hermione walked to Ollivanders and there she spotted them. The Weasleys were all stood together about ten feet away. Charlie had returned to them and looked a little distant. No doubt seeing her with Malfoy would occupy his thoughts for a long time. None of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's grandchildren were old enough to go to Hogwarts yet but the family liked to take trips to Diagon Alley to soak up the atmosphere. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were stood together. Their robes were still a little frayed but Mr. Weasley's promotion after the war ensured they were made of better finery than Hermione remembered. Mr. Weasley had lost even more hair with advancing years, the stress of the Second Wizarding War and the loss of Fred. Mrs. Weasley had lost even more weight after Fred's funeral but had slowly regained it and was now slightly plump once more. Ron was talking with George. Angelina was with him with Fred Jr in her arms. Percy was consulted a book Hermione couldn't see. Bill and Fleur were patiently explaining to Victorie why she couldn't have a wand just yet as Fleur held Dominique in her arms. Harry and Ginny were talking while Harry was holding James. Hermione noted that Ginny was beginning to show her advancing pregnancy. She must have been four months gone now. Hermione took a moment to look at them all. She'd been a part of that once. She'd been happy. But not happy enough. She stepped into the doorway of the old shop, out of sight lest any of the Weasley's catch sight of her.

When the war had been over, her and Ron had clung to one another. They'd lived. They were alive and now they had to rebuild what had been destroyed in the midst of battle. After their kiss, there seemed no need for the conversation about what status they were. They'd waited seven years; why waste any more time?

As it happened, they would have to wait a bit longer. While Ron and Harry had no desire to go back to school after all that had happened, Hermione refused the free pass. She loved Hogwarts and would not compromise getting the best out of her NEWTs. Ron and her had argued over this. He didn't want her to leave when he'd only just won her over at last. She wouldn't be moved however. Eventually she boarded the train with Ginny and Luna and went back to Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione made a pact that although they were not together physically, they would not look or go near anyone else. Hermione kept to her promise. Her love for Ron was strong. He had shown his strength in the war and proved his courage and devotion to her.

Hermione never told Ron or Harry but, whilst she missed them both bitterly, she found the independence quite exhilarating. She felt stronger for it. And her determination to make something for herself grew. She knew that she needed to pay a more lasting tribute to Dobby for her thanks to him. That meant she needed to get the best qualifications she could to get into the Ministry.

Ron and Harry had undergone their Auror training while she was away and had qualified. Therefore they all went into the Ministry together.

Hermione and Ron picked up where they had left off. Hermione couldn't help but smile when she remembered the first year they spent as a couple. It had been wonderful. They'd gone on official dates to restaurants, bought one another gifts and he'd been loving and attentive. Hermione and him normally went round for dinners at the Burrow. It had been a lovely period. Hermione had moved into her own home and had fun decorating it for her own personal use. Ron didn't move in until they were together two years.

After about four years, Hermione and Ron were still the same on the surface. The golden couple of the golden trio. Except it wasn't golden.

Living together had been a big test. She'd stayed with Ron a few times at the Burrow and the months they spent cooped up in a little tent, searching for the Horcruxes hadn't been pleasant. This however was different. There was no break from this. It had been fine at first. She'd been excited about spending more time together. Slowly though, little things began to irritate her. The mess was ridiculous. His inability to do any cleaning without a wand drove her to distraction. Commenting when she prepared a meal the Muggle way that his mum's spells were quicker and tasted better caused arguments that shock the walls. Soon even littler things annoyed her. The way he grinded his teeth while he slept. Him forgetting to ask how her day had been when she'd asked him (even at times when she really didn't care). Him forgetting to feed Crookshanks when she was out late at work.

On the whole, Hermione buried herself in work and ignored the problems. Couples fight, she reasoned, just because we've been through harder times than most doesn't mean we get a free pass. She kept reminding herself of Ron's truly good qualities. She didn't doubt his love for her even if they had had trouble getting to where they were at now. They were both fiery. She liked that. He was passionate and so was she.

Then something had happened that had made Hermione sit back and really think. Harry and Ginny had just had baby James. There was a huge party for the family at the Burrow to welcome James to the Weasley clan. It had been a lovely evening. Fred Jr, Dominique, Victorie and Molly Jr all looked into the crib at their newest cousin as the family dined on a massive feast and special wine. Ginny had been glowing and Harry looked like he was going to combust with happiness. He finally had a family of his own; Hermione couldn't have been happier.

After dinner, James had woken up and Ginny had handed him to Hermione while she got his bottle. Hermione had cooed over baby James. He looked a lot like Harry but had Ginny's eyes. Molly Weasley had smiled fondly.

"Not long now and we'll be having a party for you and Ron's baby. After you get married, of course."

Hermione had gone to laugh. Only she looked around. No-one seemed to find it funny. They all looked quite calm and almost in agreement. Like this was not a joke but simply a statement of how thing would be. Hermione had looked around and then looked at Ron. He was smiling proudly. A little knot formed in her stomach and she had a serious sudden urge to have a drink.

She lain awake that night. Ron was snoring loudly beside her. She slowly got out of bed, careful not to rouse him, and put on her dressing gown. She'd made some coffee made with lots of hot milk on the stove and sat down at the kitchen table, thinking.

Why did she feel so uneasy? Why had the talk of marriage and having a child scared the life out of her?

Maybe it was just the Weasley mentality. All of Mrs. Weasley's sons were married except for Charlie and so was her only daughter. Only her and Ron remained. This had never bothered Hermione before. It wasn't a race. But the assumption everyone seemed to have that they would automatically follow suit had unnerved her. She thought that the idea of getting married would make her warm and fill her with happiness. Instead, she felt claustrophobic and trapped.

Hermione sipped her milky coffee and sat back. She had began to imagine. What if she did marry Ron? She tried to imagine life as a married couple. It wouldn't be very different. She'd have a different surname. Married life wasn't easy, she knew that, her parents muttered it a lot and she knew for absolute certainty that they loved each other beyond reason. Married life would possibly mean more to argue about too. Hermione closed her eyes. If they argued any more, they'd barely have time to sleep.

Hermione then tried to imagine a child. Oddly, it did not scare quite so much as marriage. She wanted children. She loved children and imagined she would be quite a good mother. She'd try her best anyway. Emotional stuff frightened her at times. There was no book to learn how to deal with it all. No-one knew how to be a perfect wife or mother and it wasn't something you could study for. She would like two. Just two. She'd been an only child and remembered how much she yearned for a sibling. But she couldn't imagine herself being able to cope with seven as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had done.

Hermione didn't understand. How could she find having a child less frightening than actually marrying Ron?

Hermione still remembered the cold, sickening feeling that washed over her as she realised what it meant.

Hermione had never really looked at the reason why her and Ron were together. She knew full well that they had next to nothing in common apart from Harry. She hadn't seen it as that much of an issue to begin with. Opposites attract and all. But Hermione spent most of her time finding things, that had once been endearing, almost unbearably irritating. And she hated his lack of patience and understanding about her work. He said all the right things at the beginning and seemed genuinely interested in her work with magical creatures. Now, it was like he found her need to keep making things better all the time rather… predictable. She was brilliant, he said, she knew that. Therefore he never made a big deal of her accomplishments. There was always an air of 'what's new?'.

Now she was facing the idea of a life with him. The rest of her life. And she didn't want to.

She loved Ron but not enough.

That was it. She didn't want to marry Ron Weasley. Which meant she definitely couldn't bring a child into all this.

Tears had sprung to her eyes. For although it was now obvious what she had to do, the thought of actually doing so filled her with sadness. She was saying goodbye to six years of companionship and, although she no longer loved Ron as she should, she did love him nonetheless. He was still her friend. They shared a home, a life, and she would have to give it up. Now she realised the truth, she couldn't remain with him. She had done so long enough without even realising it. Trapped in a rut without the means or understanding as to why. She'd been foolish and had thought that by ignoring the cracks they would come to nothing. The longer she stayed, the more hurt it would cause.

It had been worse than she could ever imagine. She'd waited a full day before sitting him down and explained that she could no longer go on as they were. Ron had been upset as she had expected. He'd yelled, demanded to know why, he'd even cried. Hermione had cried. He wanted an explanation. You can't just walk away from a six-year relationship with only a day of realising you don't love a person! Hermione reasoned that she had been lying to herself for a long time. The last thing she needed was him assuming that there was a third party involved.

Ron refused to leave.

"You want this to end? _You _walk out that door!" He shouted. Hermione had no choice but to pack her belongings and put Crookshanks in his carrier. She walked out that night without anywhere to go. She'd ended up on Ginny and Harry's doorstep.

She'd had to explain what had happened to Harry and Ginny. Ginny had been shocked and wanted to know why. Hermione explained as best as she could. Harry just sat there, shocked. He looked like he had been punched.

Hermione left quickly the next morning. She went to the Leaky Cauldron as she started to hunt for a flat. She continued to visit Harry and Ginny. She was desperate for them to maintain their friendship. Ron had gone back to the Burrow for a little while. She had received owls from most of the Weasley family. She didn't open any of them. They went straight in the fire.

As the weeks passed, Hermione moved into the tiny flat and continued to see Harry and Ginny. The visits were uncomfortable. Ginny and Harry had initially been understanding but it soon became apparent that Ginny was siding more and more with Ron. Although not rude, she was colder and not as welcoming to Hermione as Harry tried to be. Harry, in turn, tried to reason with Hermione about Ron. It came to a head after he tried for the fourth time to get her to 'see sense'.

"I'm capable of knowing my own mind!" She'd snapped. "And isn't it kinder to be honest? Lying isn't going to change anything!"

"Ron's devastated! He's all over the place and I had to turn him away from work today. He was hungover."

Hermione had felt guilty of course but also defensive.

"It's his own choice to drink Harry. And I've told you. I want to be friends. I've written him god-knows how many letters. But he won't answer."

"Of course he won't." Ginny snapped. "He's still in love with you."

"I'm just trying-"

"Hermione, I think you've done enough, don't you?" Ginny spat. Her resentment of Hermione was clear to see. "You don't love Ron. Fine. But you can't expect things to carry on as before! I'm Ron's sister. Harry's his brother-in-law and he is the injured party in this. He didn't see it coming. None of us did. I mean, what did you expect him to think in terms of the future. You'd been together years. Of course, he thought it would last forever!"

Hermione had stood there, unable to form words. Ginny sighed.

"You need to understand that we're trying to be there for him. And even though you're my friend Hermione, he's still my brother." Ginny left the kitchen.

Hermione and Harry stood together in awkward silence.

"Do you think that way?" Hermione asked in barely a whisper. She already knew the answer.

"I think… maybe it would be best if you put some distance between you and Ron. He knows you come here and its not easy. I'm trying so hard Hermione but… they're my family."Hermione didn't cry but it was hard. Harry had always taken Ron's side ever since the beginning. It was like third year all over again. Hermione had left quietly and hadn't come back. She had cried herself to sleep that night but hoped that maybe Harry was right. A bit of breathing space could do them some good.

Hermione wiped her eyes viciously in the doorway of Ollivanders. Her hopes hadn't gone well. It was clear Ron still held a grudge and therefore the rest of the family stayed away to keep the peace. She should have realised. When Percy had gone against the family, they didn't speak for three years. Her meeting with Charlie had given her a little hope that maybe the Weasley family missed her. Maybe things were changing in her favour. She understood why they felt so betrayed yet there was some conciliation in all this. It showed her that her decision to walk away from Ron had been valid. If anything, Harry's distance was what stung the most. She'd stood by him for years, even when Ron had walked out on them on the hunt for Horcruxes, which they avoided talking about. Hermione understood Harry's marriage probably came under strain due to her decision yet the resentment still bubbled. She should have expected it. He never sided with her against Ron.

With her head high, she stepped out of the way of the door and strode down the street back towards her home. Back to Baker Street. She'd be damned if she was the victim here.


	17. Late Nights and New Starts

**Hello again. Thank you so so so much for the wonderful feedback. I truly appreciate it. I may not be able to update as frequently soon as I'm returning to University but I'll definitely try. I'm so glad everyone liked my take on Ron and Hermione's break up. Sometimes things just... fall apart. I can see that happening for them. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock.**

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><p>Hermione returned to her bedroom as soon as she arrived back at Baker Street. She could hear Malfoy doing something in the kitchen but had little to no interest in what it was. She was emotionally drained and in a mood that promised either broken cutlery or tears if pushed. She closed the door and leant against it. Crookshanks was curled up on the windowsill, serenely cleaning his fur. Her mouth tugged into a smile. She liked her bedroom. It wasn't as cosy as her old home with Ron or as dank and miserable as her tiny flat. It was simple with the shelves filled with her books (and some stacked in piles on the floor as she had run out of room). Her bed was comfy and it was filled with natural light.<p>

Kicking off her shoes, she flopped down into the middle of the bed and sighed. Crookshanks dutifully crawled over to her and she scratched behind his ears absently. She stared up at the ceiling.

Hermione wasn't sure how long she lay there or if at any point she dozed off. Soon the ceiling became harder to see as the light disappeared. She didn't move to switch on the lamp. She just wanted to enjoy the stillness and let her mind wander shamelessly over all the things she normally tried to ignore. Would Ron and Harry ever resume their friendship with her? Should she phone her parents? How were Malfoy and her going to get to the bottom of this damn code that was fast becoming as frustrating as Malfoy himself? … Where to start with all the things Malfoy had prompted her to agonise and examine over the past month? She began to feel the onset of a migraine and closed her eyes again.

The chime of the front door bell jolted her out of her stupor. She squinted in the darkness at her bedside clock. She could just about make out it was eleven o'clock. Her stomach began to contract. Malfoy never had visitors or ordered takeaways. It had to be bad news. She didn't think she had the energy to deal with any more negativity and considered pulling the duvet over her head. But as always, Hermione didn't shy away, swung her feet off the bed and walked barefoot to the door.

The scene in the living room left her baffled. Neville was directing two Aurors into the house. The two men, who looked tall and quite burly, were casting spells that were conjuring up boxes of books all around the house. Neville was checking his parchments and ticking things off as certain boxes appeared. Luna, who must have answered the front door, was in her fluffy dressing gown and slippers, watching with interest, with a teacup in her hand. Malfoy was lighting yet another cigarette.

"What's all this?" Hermione asked, looking at the boxes. They all contained the same things: books.

"Malfoy flooed me earlier." Neville answered. "These are all the books from both Mordecai and Stevenson's apartments. Apparently you need them."

Hermione looked at Malfoy. He was inhaling his cigarette and looking at all the boxes as if in anticipation. Hermione nearly groaned. Charlie's words echoed in her ears. "_As they are in London, it will be based upon a book." _It seemed to be a reasonable idea to get all the books from their homes and go through them. But the vast number of boxes made her pale.

Malfoy caught sight of her and shrugged. "You have a better idea?"

"How did you even get authorisation to get these things?" Hermione asked.

"I made a few calls."

"A few?" Neville asked, indignant. "You rang forty times in the space of an hour and wouldn't get out of my fireplace until I gave you my word to get them!"

"Malfoy doesn't listen to answers that don't suit him." Luna said simply, taking a sip of tea.

"Regardless," Malfoy said, walking into the only space in the living room that didn't contain crates of books, "these books will lend us a little more insight into the sort of men we're dealing with." Hermione assumed this was code. The aurors may have known about the murders but they may not know about the code. And they generally tried to keep Luna out of all their business. The two burly aurors nodded their goodbyes and retreated back down the stairs where they Disapparated. Malfoy continued to smoke his diminishing cigarette as he rifled through the boxes. Hermione made a promise to hide those blasted things as soon as this was all over.

Neville was standing awkwardly next to Luna as though not quite knowing what to do with himself. Hermione couldn't decide whether this was because Malfoy was now in work mode and had rendered Neville's presence unneeded. Or simply because he know realised Luna was quite close.

"Is that all then?" Neville asked, a hint of wariness and… disappointment in his voice. Hermione could only imagine that it must be frustrating and a little humiliating to be regarded as a spare part in your own case.

"Yep." Malfoy answered, popping the 'p' as he continued to rifle through the books and nearly dislodging his cigarette from his lips in the process.

"Would you like some coffee Neville? I still have some birthday cake from yesterday." Luna asked. Neville's neck went pink and Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Umm…"

"Best make some coffee, Lovegood, me and Granger will certainly need it."

Hermione's head snapped in his direction.

"You want me to start now?"

"That was the plan." He quipped, not bothering to look in her direction as he tossed the smoked cigarette butt into the fireplace.

"I've got work in the morning!"

"You've been lying on your bed all afternoon. I assume you are feeling slightly rested by now."

Hermione would have felt shocked that he'd known that she'd essentially spent the afternoon lying on her bed doing nothing without checking. But the novelty of him knowing everything was wearing thin.

"I haven't slept!"

"And you aren't going to either. Now stop moaning and help me."

Hermione must have had her mounting frustration flash in her eyes as Neville announced a little too loudly, "I'll help you with the coffee, Luna" and grabbed Luna's arm to lead her away from what could quickly lead to another crime scene.

"Why should I have to kill my dwindling energy doing all this in one night?"

"I know you well enough to know even if you don't take part, you'll stand over my shoulder and watch me do it 'the wrong way'. Why not save yourself the hassle and just help?"

"I don't stand over your shoulder!"

"I watched you fussing over Longbottom in Potions for six years. You can't leave people to get on with things when they need help."

Hermione still stood rigidly in her space where the boxes were stacked around her.

"Fine, stand there and have a sulk. I've got work to do." Malfoy shrugged and began pulling out books and inspecting them.

Luna poked her head around the door way. "How many servings do you need of coffee?"

Hermione looked at her and then at the boxes. Malfoy was still pulling books out with purpose.

"Two." Hermione sighed and walked towards the nearest box. Even though Malfoy had his back to her, she would bet her last Galleon he was smirking.

* * *

><p>Dean walked through the offices of the Department of Magical Creatures briskly. The admin staff were chatting amongst themselves. The quills didn't seem to be doing much work today, he noted.<p>

He'd been nervous about sending Hermione that letter. He couldn't deny that he'd always had a soft spot for her ever since fourth year at the Yule Ball. And now Hermione was a single lady and had grown into a very beautiful one. It seemed a waste to let the opportunity pass even if it did mean breaking a code of conduct with Ron. Well, they weren't that close these days anyway. Hermione had answered his letter in a polite way. She'd said he could pop by whenever he was free to.

Dean knocked the door of her office. The window on the door had the blinds closed so he couldn't see inside. There wasn't any answer. He knocked again.

"Hermione?" Silence. "Hermione?"

When no answer came, he gently opened the door. The scene before him shocked him and also gave him a mad desire to laugh. Hermione was at her desk. Her head was on a pile of parchment and her eyes closed. Dean would have been concerned but her gentle breathing indicated she was indeed alright. She was sleeping.

Dean shut the door gently behind him and just stared at the sight of the brightest witch of her age, comatose on her desk. He wondered fleetingly if he should owl letters to everyone who was in Gryffindor and tell them of the scandal. But Dean was too busy chuckling to himself to be bothered.

Eventually he reached over and shook Hermione's arm.

"Hermione, wake up." Hermione gave a tiny noise which sounded almost like a protest. "Hermione! Wake up before your floor manager comes here."

She began to stir a little and opened her eyes. She didn't seem to understand what was going on or indeed where she was. It took three seconds for Hermione to seem to get her bearings and her fatigue was forgotten at once.

"Oh no!" Hermione started frantically looking at her papers. "What am I doing? I need to get these papers done by the end of the day!"

"Hermione, Hermione, calm down! It's only eleven o'clock." Dean picked up a few parchments off the floor that had slid off. "Bit of a late one?"

"You could say that." Hermione sighed and rested her head on her hand. She looked like she was struggling to keep her eyes open. "Oh, I can barely think straight."

"Come on." Dean caught hold of Hermione's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Let's get you some coffee."

He led Hermione down to the cafeteria. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the sight of the coffee without any milk or sugar.

"Trust me, it will help. The stronger the better."

Hermione finally sipped the coffee and sighed.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to take care of my mess."

"I'm in more shock that you have ever fallen asleep on the job."

"It's not the first time." Hermione conceded, sipping her coffee and clearly too tired to protest the strength of it. "I fell asleep once in third year. Too many subjects."

"You may be good Hermione, but you're also human." Dean mentioned. "You cant stay up all night and work all day."

"Yes, well, now I know that."

"What was it? Too many drinks? Too many papers? Chatting with friends?"

Hermione sipped her coffee to give her time to prepare an answer. She'd done the hangover thing two nights previously with Luna, she seemed to be almost neglecting her papers lately and she wouldn't have called her and Malfoy rifling through boxes of books that held no relevance as chatting. Indeed, they were so tired by the end, they'd forgotten to argue for nearly an hour.

Dean seemed to forget his dinner plans and spent the rest of the day sorting out Hermione's files as she filled them out. They got through the work in half the time and, by the time five o'clock came, it was all taken care of. Hermione fell back in her chair, weak with relief and exhaustion.

"Sorry we never got to have dinner."

"That's okay. It was five streets away anyway."

"I thought you said it was around the corner."

"I might have exaggerated." Dean shrugged with a smile. Hermione looked down at her desk, although there was nothing on top to look at. She was suddenly feeling a bit warm. "Still, we can always reschedule."

"I think I need to go straight to bed once I get home."

Dean nodded, looking a little deflated.

"But I'm free tomorrow night!"

* * *

><p>Hermione was greeted by chaos in her flat. Malfoy and her has sat up through the night. One side of the living room was piled high with books they'd inspected and discarded as useless. They weren't even half way through. Hermione never thought she'd see the day when she resented two people for sharing a passion for reading.<p>

She'd left Malfoy fast asleep in an armchair as she'd dragged herself out the front door. She was more than a little resentful to return to find him up, about and looking fresh and alert in the centre of the room. He was still going through the books. His hair was sticking up and the ashtray was now overflowing with cigarette butts.

"About time. How long does filing take?"

"A long time." Hermione snapped. She didn't care how much he tried to manipulate her tonight; she was having an early night if it killed her.

"After you've had your nap, we need to keep going through these books."

"I intend to sleep through to the morning and then go to work."

"Fine." Malfoy said with a disinterested sigh, "Tomorrow night then."

"I can't. I'm going out."

Malfoy didn't look up but there a pause. "Where?"

"Just out."

"With whom?"

"Friends."

Malfoy did look at her then with a look of 'do I look stupid?' evident on his face. Hermione had to admit there were holes in her story. She never just went out without having a destination. It was true she didn't know where her and Dean were going but that was because she fancied having a surprise. And the story of going out with 'friends' was dubious too. Aside from Luna, Neville and indeed Malfoy she was a little hard stretched for friends. She'd never been one to go out for the night with the Gryffindor girls either.

"Dean Thomas finally twisted your arm for a date then." It wasn't a question.

"He didn't 'twist my arm'! I agreed."

"Hmmm." Malfoy said, as though he didn't believe a word of it.

"I never knew my love life was a subject of interest to you."

"It's not." Malfoy carelessly threw a book he'd been inspecting onto the 'useless' pile. "And lets be honest Granger; what love life?"

Hermione glared at him as he turned his back to her. His words weren't really what angered her. He'd said far, far worse over the years. It was the tone of surprise that she even had a date. And the total conviction in his voice when he said he didn't care. Somehow that stung more than she'd ever admit.

* * *

><p>Hermione slept through the night and went to work, feeling human for the first time in days. There was a slight spring in her actions that day. Partly due to her desire to make up for her lacklustre performance yesterday but also due to a huge amount of excitement and nerves. She knew that her and Dean had been heading down this particular path for a while now but she still could sit still all day. She'd not been on a date for nearly four years. Despite the first flush of love she'd experienced with Ron, as time went on they hadn't done dates after a certain point. At the most, they would stay in and watch television (something of a novelty to Ron at the time). Also, she'd never been on a date with someone who wasn't Ron. This was brand new territory for her. She had been quite insistent that they meet some place though. If Dean came to her door, and Malfoy answered, their date would be over before it even began.<p>

It was exciting though. It was new and different and change was good sometimes. She was used to change by now but for once this seemed like a good kind.

She tried to take her mind off the idea that Malfoy seemed to be swinging between not caring a jot about her and getting oddly territorial about her pursuing other interests outside of him. Well, sod him! If he wanted to be a recluse and dedicate his life to pursuing the unattainable answers of life to relieve his boredom, well, that was his decision. It wasn't hers. She would like to pursue the idea of having some fun that didn't end in a duel.

She went home a little earlier than usual that day. Her new energy has enabled her to finish her work a lot quicker than usual. She had a shower, dried and styled her hair and started to debate over what to wear. She was not particularly a devotee to fashion but she should at least look smart. She eventually settled for a white flowery tea dress and a black cardigan with ballet pumps. She tied her hair up in a knot on top of her head with little wisps framing her face. She put on a touch more make-up than normal but not very much. It wasn't really needed. The overall effect was very pleasing. She looked girlie yet natural.

Malfoy wasn't looking in her general direction when she came out of the bedroom. He was in his usual thinking mode which meant he seemed unaware of anything else around him. Hermione willed him to ignore him as she got her coat and bag but Malfoy never seemed to do as she wished. He looked over at her and seemed to take in her outfit. Hermione waited for the criticism. None came. He just turned back to the spot he had been staring at and went back into himself. Hermione turned on the spot and went down the stairs. A quiet Malfoy was a manageable one.

She apparated to the café that she'd agreed to meet Dean at. She checked her hair one more time then went inside. Dean wasn't there yet. She wasn't worried as she was slightly early. She ordered tea then sat down. Ten minutes later Dean arrived. He looked like he had rushed there and was looking a mixture of annoyed and remorseful.

"Hermione!" She sat up straight and smiled.

"Hi Dean."

"Hermione, I'm sorry, I've been called into work."

The little zeal of energy Hermione had been experiencing for the entire day slowly began to sag within her.

"Oh. Do you want to cancel?"

"No. I really don't. But I can't very well drag you into Quiddich practise and leave you sitting in the stands."

Indeed, that didn't sound like much fun at all. Yet Hermione didn't think she could bare it if she returned home so soon. Lord only knows what Malfoy would think.

"I could watch. It might be interesting."

Dean looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "But you hate Quiddich. Everyone knows that."

It was true, Hermione was well-known to despise the blasted game. Still, it was nice to hear someone acknowledge and take heed of the fact she didn't enjoy it. Harry and Ron would just ignore her complaints and drag her along to watch Ginny playing in matches or when they themselves got on their brooms and played. Always a rather tiresome task as, despite the fact Harry was an exceptional Seeker, even all the years after leaving Hogwarts, Ron continued to be mediocre at best. The amount of times he blamed his broom was laughable as, even when he bought the brand new Firebolt 500 at the same time as Harry and Ginny, he kept failing to save any goals. Still, it made her more determined to not let her chance to get to know Dean a little better slip through her fingers.

"I'm just not that good at understanding the rules. Maybe watching professional will make it a bit easier."

Dean looked a little dubious but eventually sighed. "Okay. But if you're bored at any time, just tell me and I'll duck out to take you home."

Hermione nodded and followed him out of the café.

* * *

><p>Hermione sat on the stands and smiled. It was actually quite good fun. Yes, it was a little cold and she still understood or enjoyed the game any better than she had in Hogwarts or indeed the World Cup, but a kindly coach of the Romanian team had given her his coat when he had seen her shivering and she was enjoying the atmosphere.<p>

Dean had been called to practise with the Chudley Cannons because the Romanian team had introduced three new players quite suddenly and they needed to negotiate the new positions. This wasn't technically Dean's concern but the Romanian team would need the entire day tomorrow to practise and make sure these new players were up to par and able to interact with the team. That meant that the Chudley Cannons practise had to take place right now. They were careful not to highlight any particular tactics in front of their rivals.

Hermione had drawn a few stares from the Romanian team. Many of them recognised her from the papers and stories concerning Voldemort's downfall. Some even came and sat next to her, smiling with happiness to see her and chatting about the game. It was all very friendly. The only people who didn't come over to talk to her were the new recruits. Three rather formidable looking men in Quiddich robes who were talking only to one another. They seemed preoccupied. Must be nerves, Hermione reasoned. There was also a blonde woman wearing expensive robes who had a formidable look upon her face. She kept glancing at Hermione but didn't come over.

Dean had come over every time they had a break to speak to her. This earned him a few cheeky cheers from the Chudley Cannons.

Hermione was looking idly around the stands when she spotted him. He was lurking behind the stands so no-one would notice him. If it weren't for the shock of white hair, Hermione wouldn't have either.

Malfoy was in the stadium.


End file.
